


When Green Meets Blue

by Taybay14



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Anxious Dean Winchester, Blushing Dean Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Flustered Dean Winchester, Happy Ending, Heat Sex, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Dean Winchester, Past Rape Mentioned (not main characters), Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Smut, Stubborn Dean Winchester, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, True Mates, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 58,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27630976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taybay14/pseuds/Taybay14
Summary: When Dean Winchester's dad dies, he goes to live with his Uncle Bobby in his dad's hometown. His dad always hated the place, and never let Dean visit. Dean didn't know it was because werewolves were there. He also didn't know he has a dormant gene that will be triggered if he goes near werewolves, turning him into an omega.Castiel Novak is going to be the next alpha of his pack when his dad steps down or dies. That’s his biggest concern. But one chance encounter in a grocery store where he gets a whiff of a beautiful unmated male omega – something incredibly rare – changes his whole world.Dean and Castiel have to navigate first love, dark family histories, and Dean’s panic as he realizes the supernatural exists and he’s included in the population. Between high school drama, a surprise heat, and a lot of notes being passed between classes, Dean has to figure out if he can accept this new world order so he can let himself be happy with the boy he loves, and Cas has to figure out how to be patient… true mates be damned.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Past John Winchester/Michael
Comments: 114
Kudos: 395
Collections: DCBB 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This year has been chaos, but working on this DCBB has been one of my safe places. This story has a special place in my heart for many reasons, and I can't wait to share it with all of you!!!
> 
> I have to make a quick shoutout to my amazing artist: lotrspnfangirl_graphics. For a last minute pairing, I think we kicked ass (Though I might be a little biased). Definitely check out the amazing art they made to pair with my fic. <3
> 
> \-- art link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626012/chapters/67590782

** Dean **

No one ever tells you how quickly things change when someone dies. One moment, they’re annoying the shit out of you and nagging about college applications. The next, they’re dead. They’re just… _gone_. Forever. 

The days after my dad’s death are a blur of sympathy and black clothing. My Uncle Bobby is taking care of everything, giving me the freedom to space out most of the time. He puts food in my hands every so often. I’m brought to the school where I empty out my locker without asking why. At some point, I eat a cupcake. The frosting is pink. I’m not sure where it came from. It tasted like nothing. It tasted empty. 

Perhaps that was just because I’m empty. 

When Uncle Bobby wakes me up on the fourth day after the funeral and tells me it’s time to go, I don’t ask where. He asks me if I want any of the stuff left in my room. I look around to find that most of it is gone. Someone must have boxed it all up. My closet. My dresser. Even my bedside table is empty. There’s still bedding on my mattress and posters on the wall. I don’t want them. I tell him as much. 

I realize on day five, after spending the night in a motel and some more driving, that Uncle Bobby is taking me to his home. It clicks when I look around to find the car surrounded by nothing but woods. 

For the first time since I got the call from the hospital with the news about dad, I feel like speaking. “Am I moving in with you?” 

Uncle Bobby shifts his hands on the steering wheel and peeks over at me. “Yes. You’re 18, so once you’ve gotten yourself together and you’re ready to be on your own, you can leave if you want.”

“And if I don’t want?”

“Then you’ll just have to stick with me, kid.” He smiles. It reminds me of dad. I look away. “You’re family, Dean. I know we didn’t get to see each other a lot growing up and that’s my fault. When your dad - well, I - I shouldn’t have been so goddamn stubborn. I should’ve came to see ya more.”

“It’s fine.” I shrug. “Dad said you hated planes and it’s a long car ride.”

I don’t mention that whenever I asked my dad if I could go visit Uncle Bobby, since I don’t mind airplanes, he had said absolutely fucking not. He never explained why. Around my 16th birthday, I gave up on asking. 

“You’re all set for school but I told them you won’t be coming until Wednesday. I figured you could use a few days to settle in first.” 

“Okay.” I pick a fuzzy off of my sweater, my fingers trembling. “What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“Lebanon.” 

Uncle Bobby smirks. “What’d your dad say Lebanon is like?”

“Small, lonely, and not worth speaking about.”

“Mmm.” Uncle Bobby nods slowly, clearly having expected this, but then his eyebrows pull in and he seems to get lost for a moment. There’s a sadness to his expression. A longing. 

“I’m sorry. That was rude.” I look out the window, studying the trees as we pass them. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I knew how he felt. It’s okay.” 

“Okay…”

“It doesn’t matter, though. You’re free to form your own opinion. If it makes you feel any better, I love the town, and your dad did too growing up.”

This catches me by surprise. “Dad said he always hated it.”

He sighs. “Yeah, well… anyway, I like it. Maybe you will too.”

“Is it as small as he says?”

My question makes him bark a laugh. “It’s damn small, yeah. I like that, though. Whole town is like one big family. And it might not have much, but the kids seem to come up with plenty to keep themselves busy.”

I try to picture what kids in a small town can do to have fun. I’ve seen TV shows and read books with small towns in them, but it never focuses much on that. It shows the kids at school and then with all of their family and relationship drama. Sometimes they hangout at a diner, but that's about it. It's going to be… interesting trying to adjust. 

Maybe a good kind of interesting, though. I never liked the city anyway. This could be good for me. It could be one of the best things to happen to me, dad’s death aside. 

I suppose I'll just have to wait and see.

\---- 

“I’m not picky,” I say for the hundredth time, shaking my head as Uncle Bobby presents me with two different jars of spaghetti sauce. “Get whatever you usually get.”

His eyes narrow at me. “I’m gonna make ya picky pretty damn quick, boy.”

I laugh and toss my hands up. “I don’t even know what I like! Dad did the grocery shopping. I swear, I’m not being annoyingly agreeable. I really just don’t know.”

“Well, what about snacks. Do ya know what brands of snacks you like?”

“Yeah.”

“Then go on to that aisle and buy yourself some snacks.”

With an eye roll, I head in the direction he pointed. Some doritos would be nice. 

I’m busy reading the black signs hanging over the aisles, trying to figure out which aisle is going to have the snacks, when I suddenly slam into something solid. My feet do an awkward shuffle as I try to keep standing when all my body wants to do is follow the force of the collision and fall to the floor. Two large, warm hands grab my elbows and hold me steady. When I look up, I’m met with the most brilliant blue eyes I’ve ever seen. 

They’re so bright, I’m convinced they’re not real. 

“Easy there,” he says with a charming smile. “Are you o-” his smile pauses, then drops until his expression transforms into something cold that sends a shiver down my spine. His grip on my elbows tightens until I whimper. The sound affects him. Relaxes him. His lips part like he’s a breath away from an apology, his eyebrows pulling down in concern. I watch as his nostrils flare with a few long, deep breaths. “You smell-”

“Castiel!” 

I jump, looking away from the boy holding me to find two other guys standing a few feet away. The boy - Castiel - doesn’t look away from me despite the fact the man who hollered is clearly speaking to him. His grip on me tightens. I find myself sucked into his gaze again, unable to look away. I have the sudden urge to submit to him. I have no idea why, and I don’t like it. 

The thought is enough to yank me out of the moment. Then it’s like a bucket of ice water has been poured over my head. I gasp and shake him off, stumbling back a step. He looks like he’s going to follow me but one of the guy’s yanks him away. Castiel growls at the guy. Actually _growls_. It makes my shoulders curl inward and my stomach flop. 

“But he smells-”

“I know,” the third guy says in a harsh whisper, looking at the other two like they’re morons. “Out. Now.”

“But-”

“Out!” The barked order creates an almost instant shift in the two younger boys. Their bodies relax and they turn in unison, shoulder to shoulder as they head towards the exit. I find myself standing there in shock, watching them go. It isn’t until they’re in the parking lot that I turn back to look at the man who ordered them to leave. He’s staring at me with narrowed eyes, looking much angrier than he did when the two boys were in here, something I didn’t know was possible. 

He steps forward, and it takes every ounce of my strength not to back away. “Who are you?” he asks. It sounds like an accusation somehow.

“I-”

“Dean!” I jump again, whipping my head in the direction of my uncle’s voice. He storms towards us until he’s nearly toe-to-toe with the stranger. Uncle Bobby looks furious. I’ve never thought he was a very intimidating man before, even though he’s big and strong and gruff, but now I’d hate to be on the other side of his wrath. Then again, the man he’s confronting is just as scary. “Don’t you fucking speak to my nephew again, you hear?”

“Is he…?”

“What he is or isn’t is none of your fucking business.”

The stranger’s eyes fall on me as he says in a startlingly calm, cold voice, “If he is, then it’s most certainly my business. All of ours.”

“A bunch of fucking vultures is what you all are,” Uncle Bobby growls before grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the man. I’m panting, despite the fact nothing really happened to me. Not directly. It seems like everyone just shouted and growled and glared around me, _about_ me, without really including me. 

“Who-”

“What did they say to you?” Uncle Bobby asks after tugging me into the baking aisle. I realize our cart is nowhere to be found. His hands are empty, hovering over my face like he’s scanning for injuries. “What did they do? Did they touch you?”

I blink a few times, trying to process his questions. Trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened in the past 5 minutes. 

“Dean!” Uncle Bobby urges, a hand cupping the side of my face. 

“I - ummm… I - they said I smell.” I wrinkle my nose and tentatively tuck my face against my shirt. It smells like… I don’t know? Laundry detergent? My deodorant? Nothing bad… Nothing worthy of upsetting these men so much. “Do I smell?”

Uncle Bobby’s eyes flutter closed before he drops his hand and takes a step back. When he looks at me again, he seems devastated. “You smell just fine, kid.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” His smile is tight. Forced. “Did they touch you?”

“The one did. He - we ran into each other. I was distracted.”

“Which one? How many were there? Was it just Castiel, Gabriel, and Lucifer?”

I shake my head. “Who?”

He sighs. “Never mind. He didn’t - you’re okay, right?”

“I’m fine. The one boy - Castiel - caught me from falling and said I smell.” I shrug, starting to feel sick to my stomach with this whole situation. “Can we go home? Are we done?”

“Yes. We have enough. Let’s go find the cart and go home.”

“Okay.”

\---- 

I shower twice, scrubbing myself until my skin is raw with the body wash I grabbed right before we got to the check-out at the store. Now I know for a fact I don’t smell bad. Head to toe, even my teenage boy ass, smells like warm vanilla sugar. I go to bed feeling very satisfied with myself. 

The satisfaction drains as I lay awake most of the night. 

All I can keep thinking about are those blue eyes. 

God, I hope none of them go to my school. 

Especially Castiel. 

  
  
  


**Castiel**

_Mine, mine, mine._

_Mine, mine, mine._

_Mine, mine, mine._

The second Gabe and I are in the woods on the edge of the grocery store’s parking lot, I’m shifting. It’s impossible not to. I either let my wolf free so he can get all of this pent up need and energy out, or I can stay human and storm back into that store to claim what’s mine. 

_Mine, mine, mine._

The wolf’s mind and my human mind try to understand together. They try to figure this new boy out. 

_Omega_. 

He smelled like omega. 

An unclaimed omega. 

An unclaimed male omega. 

_Mine, mine, mine._

I need something to kill. Something to claim. Something I can shred to pieces to keep from finding that boy, pinning him down, and marking him as mine. 

_Mine, mine, mine._

_Castiel_. I shiver as Gabe pushes at my mind. _Cas, Cas, Cas._

_Fuck off._

His amusement is apparent through our thread. I decide to hunt him. If he’s going to antagonize me right now, then I’m going to make him bleed. 

\---- 

Gabe and I shift back to human at the same time, walking in unison towards the house as we leave the treeline. He has blood smeared across his right arm, and I have some on my face and stomach, all from our injuries that healed in the shift. Gabe opens the waterproof chest by the old broken-down tractor on the edge of the yard. He throws a random pair of sweats at me before grabbing some for himself. 

“You’re getting slow,” I tease, smirking when he glares at me. 

“I’m not getting slow, jackass. I was taking pity on you.”

“Oh, I’m pitiful now?”

“Mine, mine, mine,” he mocks, fake panting. “Mine, mine-” I shove him, sending him stumbling towards the house. 

He just throws his head back and laughs. His amusement becomes muted when he raises his head to see who is standing on the porch waiting for us. I look over, wincing when I see them too. It’s bad either way. The two men could be preparing to confront me as my father and uncle, or as the alpha and lead beta of the pack. With what happened today, I’m not looking forward to either scenario. 

Dad flicks his gaze at Gabe before notching his head in the direction of the house. I have to stop myself from begging Gabe to stay and back me up, no longer hating him. 

When it’s just the three of us, my Uncle Luke looks at my dad, then at me. “I told him about the omega in the store.”

“I figured as much,” I say in a slightly bitter tone. Then I look up at my dad through my lashes, preparing for a lecture or a scolding. Maybe some yelling. 

Instead, it looks like my dad’s on the edge of a smile. “Your claim to him is being honored.” 

It feels like the wind is knocked out of me. “Really?”

“Yes. Of course. We could all hear you, son. No one’s gonna argue with that.” He laughs softly, looking over at the man who is his brother, beta, and best friend. “Jack didn’t stand a chance.”

The mere mention of my cousin Jack makes me feel cold inside. He’s the only other male of age in this pack that's unmated. My only competition. My best friend. The boy that will one day be the lead beta to me as alpha. I would rip him apart with my teeth if necessary. 

“But you will not touch that omega without consent, Castiel Novak. You understand me?” my dad asks with a raised eyebrow. “Being an omega doesn't equal consent.” 

Anger that he’d ever even doubt me on this makes my wolf thrash. “Of course!”

“You almost lost control today,” Uncle Luke says carefully. “Standing here, right now, you might think it’s ridiculous for us to be worried about this, but today in that store, you were close to losing it.”

“I-” the argument dies on my tongue as I realize he’s right. It was close. Even after I was in the forest, my wolf taking over, it took everything in me not to turn back and claim the boy as mine. Maybe it’ll help now that I know my claim to him will be respected by the pack. 

I still want to talk to Jack, though. I want to hear it from him myself. Before he gets the chance to meet the boy. Before he gets the chance to change his mind. 

Swallowing hard, I sort my thoughts and force my heart rate to slow. “Is Jack here?”

My dad and uncle exchange a look before my uncle nods. “He’s in his room.”

“Thanks.” I push past them, feeling like I’m getting off easy. There’s no way that’s it. No fucking way. When Gabe chose a mate, they made him miserable for months. They put him through the damn ringer. Then again, the three of them are brothers, and they’ve always enjoyed giving each other shit. 

Anyway, I’m not concerned about that right now. 

I’m concerned about Jack. 

My cousin - who is older than me by 11 days, and will _never_ let me forget it - is laying on his bed in his bedroom, drawing in his sketchbook. He doesn’t even glance up at me as I enter, just continuing to draw as I plop down on the bean bag chair by his window. 

“Hey,” I say casually. 

Too casually. 

Jack snorts a laugh and finally looks at me with an eye roll. “He’s all yours.”

“You haven’t even met him. What if-”

“You really don’t know?” He puts his sketchbook off to the side and sits up. The humor has left his expression. “Did they not talk to you about it?”

“About what?”

Jack starts to say something before stopping himself. He shakes his head. “That’s the alpha’s business. Just trust me on this, okay? I don’t want him. I won’t ever want him.”

Now I’m just fucking confused. It’s better than drowning in a jealous rage, though. It’s a start. 

“So, how old did he seem?” Jack asks, leaning forward like a pre-teen preparing to gossip. 

“Our age. Not sure.”

“Maybe he’ll be at school?”

I shiver at the thought, my stomach flipping in an intoxicatingly dangerous way. “I’m not sure if I’ll survive.”

This makes Jack laugh. 

I’m glad he finds it amusing. 

But I’m being fucking serious. That boy, smelling like _that_ , will be the fucking death of me if I get trapped with him in a class. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Dean**

Uncle Bobby’s house is only a few blocks from the high school, and it’s one of the last warm days of autumn. Despite his arguing with me, he gives in and lets me walk. He warns me two different times not to talk to strangers. Warns me away from those troublemakers from the grocery store - because that’s all he’ll tell me about them, is that the family is full of troublemakers and I should steer clear. He double-checks that my phone is fully charged. 

One truck passes me on my way to school. The only people I see is a small group of girls walking on the sidewalk across from mine. 

I’m starting to wonder if Uncle Bobby is crazy. 

The school is a joke compared to the one I went to in New York. It’s tiny. I’ve seen houses bigger than it. Granted, they were the really wealthy people houses that I only ever saw from the expressway, but still - I set eyes on them, and they were about the same size as the brick building I’m going to now graduate from. 

Hiking my bag higher up on my shoulder, I give myself a 5 second pep-talk and head inside. Students filter in all around me. Uncle Bobby was right. Everyone seems to know each other. 

And everyone immediately recognizes me as new. Their eyes are like needles as I walk down the hall with the sheet of paper Uncle Bobby gave me from when he registered me for school. It has my schedule and my locker information. At least the school is small enough to only have two small halls of lockers, one on each side of the little library in between them. 

But which hall is mine?

“Need help?”

I turn to look at the boy who spoke to me, giving him a friendly smile when I see that he’s smiling at me. “Yeah, that’d be great. I’m, ummm… I’m looking for my locker?”

His smile grows as he chuckles. “Are you sure? You don’t sound sure.”

“I’m sure. I’m looking for my locker.” 

“What are you?”

I squint at him, suddenly reminded of the time at the store. “W-what?”

“Sophomore? Junior?”

“Oh! Senior.” I feel myself blush, forcing an awkward laugh to try and recover. “I’m a senior.” 

“Great. Me too. Come on.” He jerks his head and begins to walk. I step in beside him, my heart rate finally calming now that I have at least one person that’s being kind to me. It eases my anxiety to have him help. Maybe he’ll even show me where my first class is. “So, this is the junior and senior hall. Juniors are the back half, and this half is us. What locker number?”

“Ummm, 43?” 

“There you go askin’ again,” he teases. “You need to work on your confidence.”

He winks to show he’s just messing around, and I laugh. It feels good. Normal. “I’ll get right on that.”

“Alright - 43. Here you are.” We stop at the blue locker with the number 43 on a silver plate at the top of it. Now that we’re standing still, I have the time to appreciate him. The boy is cute. Maybe an inch or two taller than me. Light brown hair and blue eyes. A smile that makes me feel special. That smile widens when he sees me clearly checking him out. Thankfully, he doesn’t mention it. “I’m Benny, by the way.”

“Dean,” I say in response. “Nice to meet you. And thank you, for this. I’m a mess.”

“You’re totally fine. Do you want me to-”

“Benny,” someone says in a cold, dangerous voice that makes me shudder. Benny’s eyes slowly leave my face, moving until they’re locked on the boy who spoke. I don’t have to look over to see who it is. I just… _know_. I know exactly who it is. Just the one word he spoke so far - or maybe it’s just his body so close to mine - or his voice - or… I don’t even know, but whatever it is has me spinning, feeling lightheaded and nervous like I had in the store. 

_Get ahold of yourself, Winchester._

Benny is clearly unaffected. It doesn’t even bother him that the boy talked to him in a very rude tone. “Castiel, hey man. This is Dean.”

Castiel makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. Not wanting to give away that I care about him in the least, I turn to look at him, pasting on a surprisingly calm smile. I very specifically avoid his eyes. 

“Hey,” I tell his eyebrows. 

“Hello,” Castiel says quietly, his voice so much warmer and kinder than it was a moment before. It feels like the sound gently strokes along my skin. Goosebumps erupt all over my body. 

“I was just going to see if he needed help finding his first class.”

“I’ll handle that,” Castiel says in that same cold voice, his eyes glaring as they settle on Benny’s face.

Benny reacts this time. He takes a subtle step back and nods once. “Sure. Whatever. See ya around, Dean!”

“Yeah. See ya.” 

The moment Castiel has me alone, he backs me up against my locker and takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger. I shiver beneath the touch, but I still manage to avoid his eyes. His hand lingers on my face for another second before he drops it. The paper in my hand crinkles between us. When I look down at it, I see he’s gently holding the corner. “May I?”

Unable to breathe, let alone speak, I just nod and let go. I shouldn’t have let him take it. My locker combo is on it. My entire schedule. Even my student account for lunches. But, for some reason, the strangest fucking reason, I trust him. 

Uncle Bobby would have an aneurysm. 

“You’re smart,” Castiel states matter-of-factly, his voice still warm and gentle. 

“Ummm… I mean, I guess?”

“This school only has the money for two A.P. classes and you’re in both of them. Plus college lit and Holocaust studies.” He smiles fondly at the paper. “You signed up for photography. Do you like that?”

He flicks his gaze up to look at me and I don’t have enough time to avert my eyes elsewhere. Then I’m caught. If it’s even possible, they’re brighter than yesterday. 

That same strange feeling starts to swirl in my stomach, threatening to lick up my spine. I’ve had crushes before, plenty of times, but they were never like this. 

Why is it different with him? Is it just because he’s so good looking? Like out of this world sexy as hell? Is it because of dad’s death? Is it because - 

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“Photography. Do you like photography?”

Feeling my cheeks go hot, I try to recover, stuttering through a response. “I - yes. Yeah. Photos. I take… photos.”

He smirks, his eyes scanning my face, and I feel like there’s a good chance I might melt into this shitty high school’s carpeted floor right this second. 

I think he knows what he’s doing to me. It seems like he does. That feeling in my stomach finally spreads, going up my spine. I have to close my eyes for a moment so I can focus on the simple task of breathing. My cock hardens in my jeans. I pray he can’t see it. 

A tiny, choked-off growling sound makes me snap my eyes back open. He’s closer now, his face just inches from mine. His nostrils are flaring like at the grocery store. 

“There’s no way I smell!” I blurt out, feeling flustered and uncomfortable now. “I showered.”

The intense heat in Castiel’s gaze fades, getting replaced with amusement. He chuckles and steps away. It gets a little easier to breathe. “Yes, I know you did. It didn’t work.”

“I - but -?”

“Calculus is down here. My first class is right next to it. I’ll walk you.”

None of it is a question. None of it is a request. None of it is an explanation as to how he knows I showered, or why it didn’t work. 

I haven’t even opened my locker yet. 

I still have my bag. 

I barely know this boy. 

He screams danger. 

He makes me feel things that terrify me. 

He makes me alive in a way I’ve never felt before. 

Uncle Bobby warned me to stay away from him. 

But all Castiel has to do is place a hand on the small of my back and say, “Come,” and I’m letting him lead me down the hall to Calculus. 

  
  


**Castiel**

The first half of the day goes by in a slow torture. I spend every class period going fucking crazy. Dean is kept behind after each bell, the teachers wanting to talk to him. It makes it so he’s pretty much sprinting to his next class to make it before the bell. Which means there’s no time for me. Not until lunch. 

Of course, because of my luck, Jack is in my last class. Which means Jack wants to walk to lunch with me. 

“Hurry up,” he complains, looking at me out the corner of his eye. “The hell is up with you today? We’re gonna be late and get stuck with the shitty pizza.”

I roll my eyes without responding. I’m too focused on everyone in the hall, scanning through the crowd using all of my senses. My wolf growls inside my chest. It hasn’t spent enough time with Dean yet. It’s still having a hard time finding him. My wolf doesn’t like that. My wolf thinks we should be with Dean all the time. Why wouldn’t we be? What a silly thought. It’s _Dean_. He’s _ours_. 

“Dude - Earth to Cas.”

“Huh?”

He frowns at me, looking concerned. Then his eyes find something over my shoulder and they widen in understanding. Just a second later, my senses are overwhelmed with Dean. 

_Mine, mine, mine._

I turn to face him, forgetting all about Jack. Forgetting about the rest of the students. Forgetting about the fucking pizza in the cafeteria. 

It’s all just _Dean_. 

But the omega ducks his head and walks straight past us. I slowly turn, tracking his every step. They feel like they echo in my chest. 

“Where is he going?” I ask Jack, as if he’d know. 

“Maybe to his locker?”

“No.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder without taking my eyes off of Dean. “His locker is back there.”

“Maybe-” We get our answer before Jack finishes his thought when Dean stops at Benny Lafitte’s locker. The growl is vibrating inside my throat before I even realize what’s happening. Jack’s hand that’s suddenly squeezing my elbow is the only reason I don’t lunge down the hall, knock Benny out, and pin Dean against the nearest surface to claim him. 

“He has every right,” Jack says slowly and carefully. “You can’t suffocate him. You’re a fucking stranger still, man. Don’t act like some crazy stalker.”

I squeeze my hands into fists, hating that he’s right. It’s physically painful to watch him stand there, smiling at Benny as Benny puts his books away. It’s sharp. Urgent. Right behind my sternum. I can barely breathe around it. 

“Let’s get some pizza.” Jack tugs at my elbow. “Come on, Cas.” 

“But-”

“Benny doesn’t stand a fucking chance, my friend. Give the poor guy one lunch with him.” 

He sounds so sure, just like he did when we spoke in his room. I still haven’t had the chance to ask my dad what Jack was talking about. Maybe whatever they know is what makes them so confident. It must be, because I’m not confident in the least. I feel like if I breathe wrong, I’ll lose Dean forever. 

Then again, he’s not even mine to lose, is he?

“Pizza,” I manage to croak out, tearing my eyes away from the omega and looking at my cousin. “Pizza sounds great.”

\---- 

My little sister Anna and Charlie the younger sister of Gabe’s mate, are already sitting at our usual table in the cafeteria. It’s always such a trip seeing them together, with Anna in her flowery dresses and pretty bows, and Charlie with her currently blue-streaked hair and leather jacket. The two of them are bickering, per usual. I couldn't care less about what. I just sit down with my stupid tray and my stupid pizza and search the cafeteria for Dean. 

He’s close. I can’t smell him or hear him in here, but I can sense him. There’s a ghost of a thread beginning to form between us. 

“Right, Cas?” I hear Anna say in her perpetually angry little voice. Giving up on my current mission to find Dean, I turn to my sister and give her a questioning look. She huffs. “I was telling Jack that girls should be allowed to play football here because I would kickass at football, right?”

“Watch the language,” I chide. “And yes, you would. You’d carry this team to state.”

“So would I,” Charlie says defensively. 

I roll my eyes. “You hate sports, Charlie.”

"And you're a wolf," Anna argues. "I'm human. Way more impressive." 

Jack says something about girls in the locker room, and Anna says something about them seeing each other naked all the damn time as a pack. I tune them out again, turning slightly in my seat to search for - _there he is._

God, he’s so damn beautiful. I feel like I’m in a trance as I watch him walk to the table that Benny and his friends sit at every day. He’s smiling. If I focus, I can hear his laugh through the din. Soft. Tentative. Nervous. 

Benny reaches over and pushes a lock of Dean’s hair off his forehead. 

I snap my plastic fork in half. 

“Jeez, what’s his problem?” I hear Anna mumble. 

Charlie answers. “You haven’t heard? He found his mate.”

“His _what?”_ Anna squeals. Then she makes a noise that’s impressively similar to a growl for someone who isn’t a shifter. “God, I hate this. You all just know shit because of your stupid bonds while the stupid human is stuck - waaaiiit, is the mate here?"

"Yeah." I give my sister a dirty look before looking back at Dean. "He's the one that Benny Lafitte is making googly eyes at." 

"Oh. Ouch." Anna winces dramatically, which means she doesn't feel bad at all. I glare at the little shit. No one would suspect her with her pretty outfits and kind smile, but she's a snarky little brat. She's lucky I love her to death. Plus, I suppose she’s earned the right to be bratty. She was born human into a pack of shifters. I can admit that’d be pretty damn frustrating. "I gotta be honest, I didn't expect you to mate with a human…"

Jack and I exchange a look. Charlie fills her in. "He's an omega." 

"Oh?" Anna looks at Dean, then me, then Dean. Her eyes widen. "But…"

"He's an omega," I finish for her. "And a male. And unmated. Yes."

"That's- wow." Anna looks at Jack next. "And you didn't want…?"

I growl at her, baring my teeth. Jack puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes hard enough to hurt. "I'm not interested."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. And if you want your brother to calm the fuck down, you should pick a new topic of conversation."

Before Anna has a chance to do as told, Benny leans forward and whispers something in Dean’s ear that makes Dean blush. I shove to my feet and storm across the cafeteria, ignoring my family as they call after me. 

There's not enough room between Benny and Dean for me to sit, so I slide in the open spot on the bench beside Dean so he's sandwiched between us. I hear his heart stutter but focus my attention solely on Benny, looking at him over Dean’s shoulder. It's hard to slide into my usual personality when my wolf is so panicked, but I must manage to pull it off because no one at the table seems concerned.

"Hey, man," Benny says with a smile. "What's up?"

Since I'm just here to keep Benny away from Dean, I pretend like Dean isn't there. Jack is right. I can't risk scaring the omega off. "I wanted to check with you about Friday. Is that still happening?"

"Yeah! For sure." His grin widens and he looks at Dean. "You should come."

"To what?" Dean asks breathlessly, his heart still racing. 

I affect him. 

_Good_. 

"My parents are out of town so I'm throwing a party after the football game." Benny looks at me again. "Can you still bring the kegs?" 

"Of course." I give him that easy-going signature smile I used to have before this omega decided to move to my town and flip my whole world upside down. Then I casually acknowledge Dean. "Hey new kid."

Dean’s face goes bright red. "Hey."

"I think we have our next class together. If I remember right. I only glanced at your schedule this morning." I sound so fucking casual, someone should give me a gold star. "College lit?"

"Oh. Yeah. I have that, too." He looks down to avoid my gaze, his eyelashes kissing his freckled cheeks. I want to lay him out and count his freckles. I bet he has so many in places I can't see. 

My favorites are the three on his neck that form a little triangle right where I would bite him to mate him. It's like he's asking for the mark. Begging me to claim him. 

_Mine, mine, mine_ my wolf pants. 

Lust and need spikes through me. I tense my muscles, fighting my wolf as he tries to chase after the sensations. At the same time, Dean’s whole body shudders. 

His scent goes warm. Gooey. I could melt in it. 

Arousal. 

There's arousal in his scent. 

Dangerous. Too fucking dangerous. 

"Well, I'll see ya soon then. Talk to ya later Benny." I give Benny a hand clasp and pat his shoulder. Then I somehow force my body to move away from the omega. Each step feels wrong, but it gets easier as I go. By the time I'm out of the cafeteria, I can breathe again. 

It's the full moon coming up. That's it. My wolf is just stretched thin. 

I decide to ditch school for the day, getting in my truck and heading straight home. My mom and dad are on the porch swing when I park the truck. I start to strip right there in the driveway, the need to shift burning hot beneath my skin. 

Neither of them stop me. Instead, dad sends _calm, calm, calm_ through his alpha thread before surging me with an overwhelming feeling of being accepted and safe. The shift comes suddenly after that, my wolf not willing to wait after a gesture like that from the alpha. 

I decide to run until I'm either too exhausted to continue, or I don't feel the overwhelming need for Dean anymore. 

I pass out as the sun is setting. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Dean**

Despite claiming to be in my literature class, Castiel doesn’t show up. I don’t see him for the rest of the day, either. 

Thursday is the same. I spend most of the day with Benny, who apparently can’t see that I’m distracted. He’s nice. Funny. Smart. I think he flirts with me, but I can’t be sure with my head drifting in and out of our interactions. It’s rude and I hate myself for that. At lunch, I decide to give him all of my attention, not wanting to hurt his feelings. 

“So, this party tomorrow night, it’s at your house?” I ask Benny once we’re settled at his usual table. 

“Yeah. Usually everyone goes to the diner after games but everyone will probably just head over to my place.” 

I nod, looking down at my sandwich. Uncle Bobby won’t like it, especially if he finds out Castiel will be there, but I really want to go. 

“Are you gonna come?” Benny asks as if he can read my thoughts. 

“Yeah. I mean - maybe. I have to talk to my uncle. But hopefully.”

“Good. That’d be good.” He gives me a wide smile, clearly thrilled that I’m trying to come to his party. That look is why I keep myself from asking him if he knows if Castiel will still be there, considering he’s suddenly gone missing. Instead, I ask, “So, do you play football, then?”

His smile turns cocky. “I’m the quarterback.”

“Oh. Cool.” I twirl my finger in the air towards him. “That, uh - that means you throw the ball, right?”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” He takes my hand, holding it tight as he stares at me in desperation. Then he looks at his other friends at the table. “He doesn’t like football.”

“I never said that!”

“You didn’t have to!” Benny lets go of my hand, pressing his own against his chest as if I’ve stabbed him in the heart with this knowledge. “No one that likes football would be unsure of the quarterback’s job.”

“I don’t not like it, I’ve just never tried it I guess.” I shrug, unable to stop myself from blushing as I realize the entire table is now staring at me like I’m an alien. “Is that weird?”

One of Benny’s friends, I think his name is Ash, snorts a laugh. “This tiny ass town has 2 things that everyone cares about - football, and our 4th of July weekend celebration.”

“It must be an extremely boring winter and spring, then.”

“We find plenty to keep ourselves occupied,” Benny assures with a wink. “But that’s not important right now. What’s important is your lack of football knowledge. This must be rectified. You should come to the game tomorrow.” 

I nibble on my bottom lip, fighting the urge to look around for Castiel again. Does Castiel play football? He’s built like a football player. Larger than any of the other guys in our grade. Larger than any of the teachers, too. It makes sense. He’d be great at it. 

“You can come with me,” Ash offers casually. “I’m the athletically-challenged loser that watches from the stands.”

Feeling my stomach flutter at the thought that I might actually be making friends here, I nod enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’d like that. Sure.”

“Great. Just meet me outside the gate at 7? I can give you a ride to the party too.”

“Or I can,” Benny says quickly, giving me a charming smile. “I want to know what you thought after the game is done. You can tell me all about your loss of football-virginity.”

I duck my head at any mention of virginity, laughing. “Sure. That works.”

“It’s settled then. You’ll go to the game with Ash and I’ll bring you to the party after.”

“It’s settled,” I agree. Then, as an afterthought, I look at Benny and ask, “Wait, what do I wear to a football game?”

He hesitates for just a second before saying quietly, “You could wear my jersey.”

“Is that a thing?”

“Kind of.” He shrugs, looking at his friends. His cheeks go dark with a blush. It’s adorable, especially when compared to his usual confident demeanor. His friends are all smirking at him. Rolling his eyes, Benny looks back at me in exasperation and adds, “Couples do it. And, like, people… with crushes, and stuff. But that doesn’t have to be - I mean, friends do it too. It’s not a big deal. If you want. You don’t have to. Just if you want to. Wear it, I mean. The jersey. You don’t have to wear the jersey. You don’t have to come to the game either. Or the party, you know? I mean, I want you to-”

“I’ll wear your jersey, Benny,” I tell him with a laugh, his friends joining in. He throws a carrot at Ash who is making kissy faces. My stomach drops as I watch them all taunt him, the thought crossing my mind that they might be giving him shit for being gay. 

Or, worse, they’re giving him shit because they think being gay is funny, and they’re under the impression Benny is straight. Which he might be. But either way, I’m not straight in the least, I’m as fucking crooked as the line gets, and the last thing I want is my new friend group to be made out of a bunch of homophobes. 

The teasing goes on for another minute before the topic is changed to a math test a few of the guys are dreading. When I meet Benny’s eye, he looks nervous and unsure. I give him a smile. His mood seems to brighten after that. 

I try very hard not to think about Castiel for the rest of lunch. 

I last a solid minute and a half. 

  
  
  


**Castiel**

“I’ll go to the football game and if things get too much, I’ll just come home and skip the party,” I promise my mom, who is standing in the doorway of my bedroom, blocking my exit. 

“You spent the last 3 days wearing yourself down to the point of exhaustion. Your control won’t be as good right now.”

“But it’s my _wolf_ that’s exhausted. He won’t have any fight in him.”

My mom sighs, rubbing a hand over her face. We both have valid points. Whether I can handle going tonight is a 50/50 chance. But I want to try. I _need_ to try. I’m not going to let this ridiculousness rule my life anymore. I’m not a caveman. I’m certainly no fucking rapist. That boy doesn’t belong to me. He doesn’t belong to my wolf either. 

My wolf is pouting over this decision, but I’ve moved on. 

Or, at least, I’m trying to. 

“Is Jack going?” my mom asks after a few more seconds of debating. 

“Yes.”

“You stick with him, understood? And if he tells you to go home, listen to him. Or I’ll tell your father.”

I roll my eyes. “Really? I’m 18, but you’ll tell dad?”

“I’ll tell your alpha,” she says with a stern expression that’s trying very hard to hide a smile. 

Even though my dad and the alpha are the same exact person, there’s a difference. The threat hangs in the air between us. It vibrates through our thread until I feel my muscles ache with it. 

“Fine. I’ll listen to Jack.”

“Good. Then have fun.” My mom relaxes, her duties having been fulfilled. She walks up to me and runs a hand through my hair. I can’t help but close my eyes and sink into the feeling for a moment. It’s almost as good as when someone runs their hands through my fur. “I hope the two of you work out. I want you to be happy.”

I keep my eyes closed, lips tightly pressed together. If I open my mouth, words are going to pour out, words that I won’t ever be able to take back, words that terrify me. She knows anyway, though. 

Mom always knows.

“Everything will be fine, honey. I have a good feeling.” 

\---- 

Anna decides to stay home, leaving me with just Jack and Charlie at the game. I feel myself slide into my usual persona as I stand outside the gate with my friend group, which is a few members short considering they’re about to take the field. Jo says we should sit with them and I shrug and say sure. We probably would have anyway. 

They’re not bad people. In fact, I like most of them a lot. I’ve had some crazy adventures with them. A lot of laughs. They’re not the normal dickheads that you would expect. Honestly, they’re a great set of friends to have. 

The only problem is they don’t get it. They don’t have to fight an inner wolf. They don’t have to worry about pack dynamics and on-going cold wars with packs nearby. They don’t have to worry that they’ll make a bad alpha someday. Sometimes, it’s hard to be around them because of this. 

Tonight, though, my wolf is exhausted and my mind feels at ease. Acting normal with them is easier to do. Acting like I care about football, acting like I care about the current gossip, doesn’t aggravate me. 

Just as we’re all taking our seats on the bleachers, the game about to start, I see one of my buddies, Ash, walk up with Dean by his side. The omega is wearing dark jeans and a football jersey - Benny’s football jersey, my nose informs me. His hair is messier than it was on Wednesday, as if he’s been tugging at it a lot. He’s wringing his hands like he’s nervous. I try to inhale, try to figure out what emotions are running through him, but all I can fucking smell is Benny. It burns. 

That scent on my omega burns. 

My wolf wants to throw his head back and howl. 

Jack’s fingers dig into my knee, drawing me back to reality. He and Charlie send waves of calm towards me through our threads. When I have myself under control, guilt begins to eat away at me. I thought of Dean as mine again. 

I have to stop that. 

It’s not right. 

Dean’s pretty green eyes meet mine as he searches for a spot to sit, and I wonder how soon I can make Dean being mine a reality. 

I should start immediately. 

“Hey, you can sit here,” I offer, kicking the side of Charlie’s shoe in what I hope is a subtle movement. 

She grumbles under her breath before scooting over and giving Dean a surprisingly friendly smile. “Come on. We won’t bite.”

Jack snorts a laugh beside me and I can’t help but smirk. Dean obviously doesn’t pick up on our inside joke, just taking a seat and thanking us quietly. The sleeve of that offending jersey brushes against my shoulder, but with him closer now, I can smell his sweet scent beneath it. 

It’s sweeter than normal - unless that’s my imagination. Considering I’ve only interacted with him a few times, I could be wrong. This could be how he smells all the time. Or it could be because I’ve been away from him so long. Or because it’s peeking out from behind Benny’s scent, teasing my senses. 

Whatever it is, he smells damn good. I can’t place the scent, there are too many other smells in the way, but it’s fantastic. 

“Where have you been?” Dean asks in a casual voice that doesn’t match the sound of his racing heart. He doesn’t look at me. I wonder if he feels the same thing I do when our eyes meet, and that’s why he’s avoiding them. 

“I was sick.”

“But you’re at a football game?”

“I’m better.”

He turns to look at me, our gazes locking. That rush of heat that I usually feel when we look into each other’s eyes is more intense. I have to bite back a hiss from how hot it burns. It’s enough to knock the breath from my lungs. 

“I - I'm glad you’re, uh… better,” he manages to say, his voice breathy and trembling. The smile he offers me is tiny. Fragile. I want to kiss it, but I don’t. Yet another time where I deserve a gold star. 

“I’m glad you came to the game.”

This seems to startle him. He blinks a few times before furrowing his eyebrows. “Really?

“Definitely. I still have so much more to learn about you, new kid.” 

“I have a name you know.”

“Really?” I fake a gasp, loving the way he smiles at me when I do so. I know his name. Benny introduced us that first day, and I pay attention in classes, but teasing him is fun. “I had no idea. Do tell.” 

“Dean.”

“Dean.” The name is like silky caramel on my tongue. “I’m Castiel.”

“I know.” His face flushes red and he quickly looks at the football field again. “I mean - I just - Benny -”

I cut him off, not interested in anything related to Benny. “So, how do you like it here so far?”

“It's better than I expected."

"What did you expect?"

"I dunno." He looks down at his lap. I watch as he picks at a hangnail. "My dad always made it sound like this place was… _bad_. But it doesn't seem like it."

The way he says bad has me intrigued. "What does he think of it now that you guys are here?"

It's the wrong thing to ask. A wave of grief hits Dean so hard, it manages to even overwhelm me for a few seconds. I cut off my threads to everyone else, ignoring the uneasy shifting of Charlie and Jack nearby, clearly upset with me for breaking our connection. With my focus solely on the paper thin thread just starting to stretch between Dean and I, I try to send him _calm, calm, calm._

I'm not sure if it works. He sniffles and then laughs under his breath self-deprecatingly. "Sorry. I'm - my dad is…" he looks up at me, his eyes wide with trust that I haven't earned. It's the thread between us, most likely. I'm not sure if I should feel guilty or not. He doesn't know about it. That doesn't seem… right. 

I can't exactly tell him, though. What would I say? _Oh, hey, so I'm not sure if you're aware but you’re an omega even though you're human and a male and that's super fucking rare and special and kind of amazing and I'm a werewolf and I really want to mate you, and somehow, without really knowing each other at all, this thread is growing between us which makes it easier to sense you and keep track of you. And I can also help you control your emotions by pushing my own emotions to you. Sorry. My bad. I couldn't control it…_

Yeah… that wouldn't go over well. 

Best to keep it a secret.

"My dad is dead," Dean admits very quietly, pulling me out of my mini overthinking session. 

His words are sad enough to show how heartbroken he is without me needing to bother with our thread. From the way he blinks rapidly, I have a feeling he's fighting back tears. 

Unable to help myself, I rest a hand on his right thigh. He stares down at the spot where we're touching, still teetering on the edge of a breakdown. 

"I'm really sorry to hear that, Dean."

"Thanks." His hand flutters over mine without coming into contact before he pulls it away. "It was a car accident. They said he - I guess he died right away. So, you know, he didn't… suffer or anything. Which is… good, I guess."

"It is." I apply a little more pressure to his leg. He leans closer to me as if asking for more of my touch. "Is that why you're here with your uncle?" 

"Yeah." 

I move my thumb in slow, soothing circles against the denim beneath my hand. My mind is piecing things together, but those things are too big, too important, for me to deal with right now. 

Right now, all I want is to make Dean smile. 

"I hate the circumstances, but I'm really glad you're here."

He looks up at me with watery eyes. A ghost of a smile haunts his lips. "Really?"

"Absolutely. You're not going to believe me, but I missed you while I was sick. I thought a lot about you."

There's a smile. 

It's small, shy, and accompanied by a blush, but it's a smile nonetheless. "I know this is crazy, but… I did too."

I’ve never loved three words more in all my life. 

  
  


**Dean**

When he’s not staring at me like he wants to kill me, or telling me I smell, Castiel is a really nice guy. He’s funny, too. Everyone laughs at his jokes and stares at him with starry eyes. I can’t blame them. He’s gorgeous with his black hair that seems to have its own gravitational pull and his brilliant blue eyes that reflect the stadium lights. His smile is infectious. It’s soothing. Every time he directs it at me, I feel my body buzz. 

He’s so out of my league, it’s not even funny. 

Plus, he’s probably straight. 

I try hard not to feel bummed out about that. 

I fail miserably. 

“You want a ride to the party?” Castiel asks when the game is over. 

“No, thanks. Benny’s driving.” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder to where Ash told me I could wait for Benny. His eyes look in that direction before focusing back on me. It’s getting easier to look directly at him, which is slightly dangerous because now I want to look at him all the fucking time. 

“I can give you a ride if you don’t want to wait.”

“No, I’m good. Thank you, though.” 

He makes a noise in his throat before nodding. “Okay. I’ll see you at the party, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He rocks on his heels, looking conflicted. Then he pushes forward and cups the side of my face with one of his huge hands. The other joins a moment later, making it so I’m framed by his fingers. His touch feels like electricity on my skin and I find myself shuddering like I did at the store. My breath catches and my head swims. 

The strangest thing thrums through my mind. It’s almost like a chant. 

A steady, authoritative chant. 

_Mine, mine, mine._

I mentally scoff at myself. This gorgeous boy is nowhere near mine. Never will be. I shut my longing down and focus on Castiel again. He’s still cradling my face in his hands. “Be safe, okay?”

I laugh breathlessly. “Why do you care?”

“Because-” he pauses, swallowing hard. His blue eyes flick across my face. Searching. Studying. Memorizing. At least, that’s what it seems like. It’s certainly what I’m doing to his. 

“Because?” I prompt. 

The pad of his thumb presses against the dip below my sharp cheekbone, stroking across it. “I love your freckles.”

“You want me to be safe because you love my freckles?”

“No. Well, yes.” His eyes lock with mine as his lips curl into a brilliant smile. “Just be safe. Promise?”

“Is this your way of telling me Benny is some sort of serial killer that’s going to kill me, but you’re trying to do it subtly because of bro code or whatever?”

Something dangerous flashes in his eyes. I feel it all the way to my bones. “No one is going to fucking touch you like that. Understood?”

I laugh awkwardly. “Well, yeah, I was just jok-”

“If anyone ever hurts you, or makes you feel uncomfortable, or - or fucking _anything_ , Dean, you come and tell me, okay?”

“You - we aren’t even-” I pull my head from his hands, looking over my shoulder at the outside doors to the locker rooms. Benny said he’d shower and get dressed before coming out to see me but it’s been at least 10 minutes since the game ended. For some reason, I don’t want to be stuck with both of them at the same time. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m worried Benny will be upset, or I’m worried that Castiel will be upset, or maybe I’ll just be upset, but… it just wouldn’t be good. 

When I look back at Castiel, I realize he’s gotten closer. His eyes are narrowed. His nostrils flaring. I want to ask him if I smell again, but I’m too afraid he’ll say yes. 

Does this guy like me? Or think I’m repulsive? What the fuck is his deal?

“Just be safe. For me.” He takes a deep breath in through his nose and his eyes flutter shut for just a second. Then he gives me a tight smile and backs away. “See ya later, Dean.”

“Yeah.” I nod, feeling as if he’s sucked me into a trance. “See you.”

Benny comes out a few minutes later, interrupting my over-analysis of the conversation with Castiel. I tell him he did great and congratulate him on his win, and he gives me a hug that seems to linger, seeming very non-platonic. He says against my temple, “Thanks for coming.”

I nod, my throat closing as I find myself wishing it wasn’t him that was holding me. I’d give anything for it to be Castiel. Anything at all. 

He told me to be safe for him, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of me being anything but safe. 

I’m not sure if I’ve ever met someone so confusing in my entire life. 

\---- 

The party isn’t like any party I’ve ever been to. There’s no dj or flashing lights. There are no sexy dresses or cocktails. There isn’t even someone at the door to control who comes and goes. Hell, the party has already started before Benny and I show up, and it’s Benny’s house. 

Benny introduces me to people as we walk through his place before stopping in the kitchen where the kegs have already been set up. He fills a red solo cup and hands it to me. I squint at the brown, foamy liquid. I’ve never had beer before. 

“There’s soda and liquor to mix on the counter if you’d rather?” Benny offers, probably catching my skepticism. 

“Oh, no. This is great. Totally fine. I… love beer.”

His eyes widen, then he throws his head back and groans. “Oh my god, you’ve never drank beer before have you?”

I laugh. “Nope.”

“Wow. Football. Beer.” He winks at me. “What other firsts am I going to wring out of you?” 

I suck in a breath, convinced there must be a neon sign above my head screaming that I’m a virgin. Then I remember that Benny might not even be gay. 

I’m so sick of being confused. Between him and Castiel, I don’t know which way is up. 

Benny doesn’t let this particular topic go as he leads me outside. Someone’s truck is parked with the bed facing a fire pit that Ash is currently setting up for what I assume will be a bonfire. The truck is playing loud country music, and a couple is making out in it. 

“Have you had your first kiss? Because I’m not too cool for a game of spin the bottle tonight.”

I laugh under my breath. “I’m good on that front. I’ve kissed a few boys.”

“Boys?” He makes a pleased sound before turning to me. It’s dark outside, but I can see his huge smile despite it. “I was hoping my radar wasn’t broken.”

“Your radar is on point, don’t worry.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.” I take a sip of my beer, wrinkling my nose the moment the liquid hits my tastebuds. It’s awful. Deciding it’s only fair, I ask Benny in return, “And you? Boys? Girls? Both?”

“Both.” 

“Cool.”

He laughs, the sound warm and happy. “Yes. Very cool.”

“This beer is disgusting,” I admit. 

This makes him laugh even harder. “Let’s get you something else then.” 

When he looks at me, his smile goes soft. Fond. My stomach flips and I think to myself that just maybe, I could like Benny. I could forget all about Castiel. 

This new feeling lasts about 30 seconds. Up until we’re back in the kitchen, Benny pouring vodka into a plastic cup and asking me what soda I want with it, and I look up to answer only to find myself locking eyes with Castiel across the room. 

“Benny?” I ask, my eyes staying on Castiel. 

“Yeah?”

“Make my drink a strong one.”

  
  


**Castiel**

It takes Dean less than an hour to get his scrawny little omega ass drunk. He’s much braver with alcohol in his system. He dances. Laughs. Sings over the music. He does jello shots, licking the whipped cream off his lips suggestively - though I don’t think he has any fucking idea how suggestive it is. He lets Benny touch him way too much for my liking. 

When he goes into the kitchen for a refill, I follow him. It’s luckily empty. “Hey you.”

He jumps a foot, his cup going flying across the room and sending the few drops of liquid left into the air. He presses his hand to his chest and I block out the music from the party, zeroing in on the sound of his frantic heartbeat. I step closer, pinning him against the counter. He got rid of Benny’s stupid fucking jersey, and he’s sweated out most of his soap and laundry detergent. 

It’s just Dean, now. All Dean. I give into my wolf for a moment, bracing my hands against the counter on each side of his small body, leaning down to press my nose against his temple. The lone scent fills my nostrils for the first time since the store. Nothing in the way to hide behind. It’s a scent I’m already becoming addicted to. 

It’s warm. Comforting. Like the pack house during the holidays. It’s all pine trees and syrup and apple pie. Sugary sweet with a hint of spicy cinnamon. 

I inhale again. Then I force myself to pull away enough to look at him, knowing it’s weird that I’m fucking smelling him in the middle of a kitchen at a party. Jack would disapprove. He’d accuse me of being a creepy stalker again. 

“You scared the shit out of me,” he whispers. 

“I know.”

“You know.” He rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath, “He knows.” 

“Why does me knowing bother you so much?” 

His eyes lift to look at me, his pink lips parting as he breathes in softly. He surprises me when he gives me a real answer. “You knew I showered that day. How?”

It takes me a moment to recall the memory. He was at his locker. The fresh scent of soap clung to him, fighting against his sweet omega smell. I could tell by the hue of his skin that he had rubbed it raw.

I smirk. “I could smell your soap.”

It’s the truth, just not the full one. 

“Did I really smell that bad?” he blurts, his cheeks going pink. 

Having no idea that’s what he was thinking all this time, my stomach churns in guilt. “God, no. You smelled-” there isn’t a word to describe it, not without sounding crazy, so I settle with, “Amazing.” 

“Oh.” He peers down at the floor, nibbling on his bottom lip. I want to bite it. Dig my teeth in it until it bleeds, then lick it clean. 

My eyes drift to the stretch of his neck where I’d bite him to claim him. My wolf wants to scent him there. Right at that point where my teeth would tear into him. He wants me to nuzzle my nose against it. To feel his pulse as it thrums beneath his thin, pale skin. 

“Then why did it bother you?” Dean asks, drawing my attention back to his face. “You seemed… upset.”

“Not upset.”

“The guy with you did. He was angry and yelled.”

I’m suddenly regretting letting this conversation get this far. “It wasn’t about you. Don’t worry about it.”

“But-”

“Do you like Benny?”

He just stares at me for a few seconds before blinking hard. “I barely know Benny.”

It’s better than a yes, I suppose. Though me and my wolf would have enjoyed a resounding _no_. 

“Can I tell you something?” he asks out of nowhere, stepping closer to me and lowering his voice. 

“Anything.”

“I used to feel really itchy in the city. Like I didn’t belong. But here… I feel like I’m home.” He shakes his head, pure confusion in his eyes as he seemingly pleads with me for something. I wish I knew what. I’d give it to him in a heartbeat. “Isn’t that weird, Castiel? To feel like that?”

I pass my tongue between my lips, trying to figure out what to say to him. It makes perfect sense why he feels like that. He’s near a pack. He’s near someone that is very much so willing to be his mate, if he accepts my offer. The omega in him is finally freed. 

I can’t explain any of that to him, though. I’ve never been so frustrated with the pack secret in my fucking life. 

“Sorry, that was weird for me to say.” He tries pushing past me, his heart pounding, but I stop him with a hand on his wrist. When I turn towards him, pressing my chest against his arm and shoulder, he doesn’t argue. 

“It’s not weird. It makes me happy.”

“Happy that this place feels like home?”

“Yes.”

“But… why?” he asks breathlessly. 

I stare down at those three freckles on his neck. 

_Mine, mine, mine._

“Because this is my home.” My self-control slips enough for me to find myself raising my hand to his throat. I brush my thumb along the triangle that I so desperately want to sink my teeth into, needing to touch his mating spot. Dean’s breath catches for just a moment. Then he releases a moan that shoots straight to my cock. Our thread vibrates with confusion and lust. He’s aroused by my simple touch there and he doesn’t understand why. I take advantage of his distracted thoughts and admit, “I need you to like it here.”

“Why?”

I lean down, pressing my forehead against his. “So you won’t leave.” 

“Oh.” His hands grab at my hips, holding me close. Each breath he takes is erratic. There are too many emotions between us. They’re overwhelming our thread, making it impossible for me to figure out what he’s feeling or thinking. “Castiel?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t like Benny.” 

My eyes flutter closed as relief strokes its way across my chest. My wolf is much less calm. He’s running in excited circles and howling at the moon. 

I pull away before my wolf does anything irrational. It’s less than 24 hours to the peak of the full moon, after all. 

Speaking of… 

“Can you do me a favor?”

He nods quickly. “Anything.”

“Stay home this weekend. Stay inside.”

“Why?”

“To stay safe.” I brush the hair off his forehead before gazing into his pretty green eyes. “For me.”

“Okay,” he whispers, peeking up at me through his lashes. “For you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Dean**

When I eventually wake up and venture out into Uncle Bobby’s small kitchen, it’s already early afternoon. He smirks at me from where he’s sitting at the dining room table with his old-school laptop. There are crumpled up pieces of paper scattered everywhere but he brushes off a small section in front of the only other rickety chair, letting me know I can sit. I make a bee-line for the coffee first, my head pounding. 

“How ya feelin’?” he asks in a voice that makes it clear he already knows the answer.

“Fantastic. Never better.” I pour myself a mug of cold coffee and stick it in the microwave. The buzzing hurts my head. 

“Try some water. And Tylenol.”

“I’ve had hangovers before.”

He snorts. “Weren’t you some introverted book nerd with perfect grades in New York?”

“I mean, yeah… but I had fun sometimes.” 

“How many times?”

“I went to a few parties.” He smirks, making me narrow my eyes and glare at him. “I _did_. My friends tried to drag me out a lot. Made me have fun.”

“Ahhh, so this fun you had sometimes was forced. Now I get it.” 

I take my coffee out of the microwave and put it on the table, then grudgingly get the water and Tylenol he suggested. When I’m settled in my spot, I grab the nearest piece of paper and look at it. It’s an invoice for the auto shop. It seems like that’s what most of the papers are. 

“This is from two months ago, Uncle Bobby.” I show him the paper, frowning. “I don’t think you’re supposed to wait that long.”

He grunts. “Shop’s been swamped.”

“I could help,” I offer before taking a sip of coffee. When he looks at me like I’m insane, I shrug. “I’m good with numbers. It’s not a big deal. I like it.”

Uncle Bobby frowns at me, his eyebrows knitted together. “You don’t need to do that, kid. I don’t want you thinkin’ you need to be earnin’ your keep or anything.” 

“It wouldn’t be like that. You could pay me if you really wanted to be stubborn.” I smirk when he gives me a well-I-wouldn’t-go-that-far look. “I’m just saying, it’s not like I’m super busy here. I don’t mind helping.” 

“Okay then.” He grabs a handful of papers and plops them down in front of me. “Have at it.”

I laugh. “Well, that didn’t take much convincing.”

“There’s being a stubborn old man and there's being an idjit. I try to just be the first.” He pauses, his expression shifting. “Did you have fun last night?”

I think of Castiel pinning me up against the counter in Benny’s kitchen. Touching my neck with his thumb, that one simple touch making me feel other-worldly for no reason at all. Leaning his forehead against mine. Running his nose along my temple and inhaling. 

I think of him telling me that I smell amazing. Telling me how happy he is that I feel at home here. Telling me he doesn’t want me to leave. Telling me to keep safe for him - again. 

“I had a good time, yeah.”

“Are you making friends?”

“Well, I told you about Benny. And I sat with Ash.” 

“Just Ash?” he asks far too casually, keeping his eyes on his keyboard despite the fact his hands aren’t moving. 

_Uh oh._

“Well… no. There were a lot of us. A group.” 

“Oh? Who else?”

“I don’t really know everyone’s names yet.”

He looks up, his eyes scanning me as if he can find whatever answers he’s looking for on my face. They must not be there because he sighs heavily and asks, “Did you see any of them?”

I play dumb. “Any of who?”

“Those Novak kids.” 

“I think they were around.” Now it’s my turn to be far too casual. From the look he gives me, I know he didn’t buy my act either. Instead of trying to weasel my way out of it, I try defending them. “They seem really nice. Castiel is nice.”

His eyes narrow. “You stay away from Castiel. Jack too.”

“But-”

“If you’re going to be so goddamn stubborn, hang out with the girls.”

Something cold settles in my gut. It feels like my coffee has congealed to form an awful mass of self-loathing and anxiety. “Why the girls?”

“Those boys are trouble. No good for you.” He waves a hand in my direction. “If you’re smart, you’ll steer clear of them.”

“Because they’re gay,” I say flatly, my heart racing so hard it makes me dizzy. 

Uncle Bobby sits back, staring at me incredulously. “Now why in the fuck would that matter to me?”

My lungs expand in relief, but then I’m just frustrated. “What else would it be?”

“Not that! Jesus Christ, Dean. You’re gay! Did you honestly believe I had a problem like that?”

“You know I’m gay?”

“Kid, I probably knew before you did,” he grumbles with an eye roll. “You’re forgetting who bought you your first Justin Bieber poster for your bedroom wall.” 

I hide my face in shame. “Oh god. I forgot about my Bieber phase.”

He smiles, but it’s too soft and distant. The Bieber memories aren’t enough to derail this conversation. He’s still too concerned. 

“Why don’t you like them?”

“It’s a long story, son. Goes way back.” He scrubs a hand across his face. “Please, if you trust me, just stay the hell away. They hurt people, Dean. They’ve hurt a lot of people. They hurt-” he stops himself, swearing under his breath. 

I stare down at the invoice still awkwardly in my hand, a sudden realization sinking straight into my bones. “Are they why dad hated it here?”

When he doesn’t answer, I look up at him. He looks broken. Torn between two decisions. I have a feeling he’s made my dad some promises. I have a feeling dad stuck him with a lot of secrets. 

“Let’s just do the invoices, okay?” I say quietly. 

“Promise me,” he says instead of responding. “Promise me you’ll stay away from them. I need you safe.”

It’s almost laughable that one of the people he’s warning me off of is the boy who made me promise him - twice - that I’d stay safe. Except, it’s not laughable at all. Because Castiel is confusing. Because Castiel’s family seemed angry when they first saw me. Because my dad hated this town, and my uncle hates them, and I can’t help but think the two things are connected. 

“I’ll stay safe,” I promise. 

The problem is, I’m not sure whose promise I’m actually keeping. 

  
  


\---- 

  
  


I spend Saturday night sitting in the window seat of my bedroom. It’s a cloudless night, the full moon bright enough to hurt my eyes if I stare directly at it. Wolves howl off in the distance from time to time. It makes me smile for some reason. 

It makes me feel safe. 

The glass is cool against my cheek as I rest my head, the hours ticking by. I’m strangely energized, but not. I have no desire to go run a marathon or anything ridiculous like that, but I have no desire to sleep either. It’s like this peaceful calm where I feel unbelievably alive but under no obligation to do a single thing but sit here and _breathe_. 

It’s stupid. 

I know it is. 

But I can’t, for the life of me, get myself to leave the window all night long. 

  
  
  
  
**Castiel**

I'm lying in the pack clearing, my head on my paws as I stare up at the moon. It's been a hard night. Okay, that's a fucking understatement. It's been excruciating. 

Twice, I've given into my wolf and let myself run free. 

Both times I ended up at Dean's house. My dad dragged me back each time, growling ferociously, sending things like _idiot, idiot, idiot_ and _calm, calm, calm_ as I fought him to get back to my mate. 

It's not that he's worried I'll hurt Dean. Wolves don't go completely mindless during shifts. I know that he's my mate - or could be, at least. I know what I feel for him. I know how much I want to protect him.

It's his uncle that's the problem. Bobby Singer has hated the wolves for almost 2 decades now. He used to be my dad's best friend. Apparently, he even talked about taking the bite once. My dad never told us what happened. Due to recent events, I think it might have something to do with a certain male omega.

All I knew growing up was that Bobby Singer hates the wolves, and he has too much knowledge for us to be able to survive him. He's never tried to hurt any of us, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't put a silver bullet in me if he caught me snooping around his house where his omega nephew lives. 

I want to ask my dad what he knows about Dean. I want to ask him the story behind him and Bobby's fight. I want to understand why I feel so intensely for Dean, why I've felt this way since the moment I touched him. Why no one else seems to be as affected. 

But I'm too afraid of the answers to those questions. 

I close my eyes and focus on my threads, checking on the pack. It’s hard to concentrate on any of them as my thread with Dean burns white hot. It's been too long away from him. My wolf is in agony. I need to let him get a glimpse of the boy in the window again. 

It takes a considerable amount of effort to keep track of all of my packmates, to quietly sneak off to Dean's, and to keep my threads all seeming bored and tired so no one knows what I'm up to, but I pull it off. It's worth it when I see Dean is still in his window. He's leaning against the glass now. Our thread has been so much stronger since the party. Even at this distance, I can sense him. He's peaceful. Happy. 

_Safe_. 

A soft noise to my right draws my attention, my hackles raising until I realize it's my dad. He shifts as he sits in the grass, the movement so quick and fluid I would have missed it if I'd blinked. I stay perfectly still as I wait to see what my alpha will do. This is the 3rd time I've disobeyed him. The last 2, he stayed a wolf and exerted his control. I have no fucking idea what I'm in for now that he's sitting beside me as human. 

He doesn't say a thing, just sitting in the grass peacefully, watching Dean like I am. I huff a frustrated breath and shift. 

The moment I'm settled, he speaks. 

"Couldn't stay away?"

"No." I can't help but feel like a pouty teenager as I grumble, "How'd you figure me out?" 

"Your wolf finally stopped being in pain." 

I watch Dean move in the window, my heart skipping in a panic until I realize he's just getting more comfortable. The boy has every right to go to sleep. In fact, he should. He's human. It's not healthy. But tonight… God, tonight, it feels so fucking good to be able to see him in the glow of the full moon. 

I'd give anything for him to be in the forest with me. 

"Do you think his uncle told him about us?" I ask, noticing the way Dean keeps flicking his gaze toward the moon. 

"Not a chance. He's probably still holding onto the hope that Dean isn't one of us." My dad looks over at me, the moonlight catching on the gray streaks in his hair. "What does he smell like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Describe his scent for me.” He pauses, then adds, “If you don’t mind. I’m asking as your dad, not your alpha.”

I shake my head in confusion. “You can smell him, dad. He smells like an omega.”

“No, son. He doesn’t.” 

“What?”

“That boy in there hasn’t presented yet, which means he smells human to us.”

“That’s insane.” I laugh under my breath, convinced that my dad is fucking with me. “He’s a presented omega. He already was at the grocery store. I could smell him.”

“You could, yes. No one else did.”

“No, that doesn’t - _no_. Luke smelled him too.”

“Lucifer smelled him through you, Castiel. Through your threads. When you left the store and Lucifer spoke with Dean, he couldn’t pick up on anything but human. Since then, not a single one of us has been able to pick up a scent from him. There’s nothing.” 

Needing some space to breathe as all of this tries connecting in my mind, I push to my feet and start to pace. I’m smart enough to sink into the woods a little so no one looking outside from Dean’s house can see me. 

It makes sense. Logically. Now that I’m sitting back, soaking in the information, it makes perfect sense. It’s rare, pretty much never fucking happens because wolves are pack animals and stick together, but every once in a while there are cases where an omega ends up in foster care or gets adopted into a human family, or some other shit, and then end up presenting later in life when they come in contact with wolves. 

Hell, there’s common theory that there are omegas that never even get the chance to present. They die without ever even knowing they had the gene in them. Without ever getting close enough to wolves to trigger the change. 

Omegas have to be near a pack for them to present. Otherwise, it’s not necessary. There’s no reason for their bodies to be put through so much when there’s no one around to breed them.

Dean was raised in New York. No wolf would live there. Not if they could help it. The city would feel suffocating. Too far away from the woods. The light pollution probably even blocks out the fucking moon. If he did ever happen to come in contact with a wolf that’s visiting the city, it would have never been long enough exposure for his body to change. 

But now...

“His gene was never triggered,” I say out loud. Then, “Did I trigger it?”

“No. That’s what I’m trying to say, son. It hasn’t been triggered yet. He hasn’t been around us long enough. He’s still unpresented.” 

Now I’m just frustrated. “But I can smell him, dad!”

“I know you can. I know.” My dad smiles at me, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. “He’s an omega. There’s no doubt. It’s soaked into every fiber of your being now. I can sense it through you. Through your wolf. Your wolf knows.”

A steady panic begins to pound in my chest. “What does that _mean_?”

“Tell me what he smells like, Castiel.”

“He smells like-” I pause, closing my eyes. Despite the chaotic anxiety my dad has conjured with this conversation, I still can’t help but smile as I picture Dean pinned between my arms in Benny’s kitchen, admitting he doesn’t like Benny, promising me he’ll stay safe, smelling like, “Christmas time. The tree. Uncle Luke’s cinnamon french toast drenched in syrup. Mom’s apple pie. A warm mug of hot chocolate.”

I open my eyes to find dad grinning at me. “Your favorite time of the year.”

Suddenly feeling a bit exposed, I look away and just nod. 

“His dad, John, smelled like bonfire and popcorn,” my dad says quietly. When I look over at him in shock, I see that he’s staring at Dean through his bedroom window. “When he first woke up in the morning, he smelled like fresh snow. Crisp. Refreshing.” 

I’m not sure if I make the conscious decision to sit or if I just fall, but somehow I end up beside my father in the grass. If this conversation was about anything else, I’d probably laugh at the ridiculousness of the two of us sitting here, human on a full fucking moon, ass naked, staring at the boy I’m obsessed with through his bedroom window. 

But this conversation is about something far too serious. 

“You knew his dad.”

“I loved his dad. We were true mates.” Shit, does that mean - disgust curls in my stomach, which makes my dad laugh. “No, no, no Castiel. I’m not about to admit he’s your half-brother or anything crazy like that. The two of you aren’t related.”

“Oh, thank god.” I laugh when I realize I said that out loud. Then I bury my face in my hands. “If you woulda told me last week that I’d be sitting here on the full moon, a fucking wreck over a boy - over a fucking omega - I’d have laughed in your face.”

“Language,” dad says mildly, sounding bored. It’s more of an obligation for him. He’s just backing mom's rules. “And that’s what happens when you meet yours. Your whole world flips upside down.”

When you meet yours. 

The implications are… so much more than I was prepared for tonight. 

“With him around wolves now, he’s going to present. It’s only a matter of time.” My dad sighs. “We need to figure out what to do about that. The poor boy will be terrified if his body starts doing that without him understanding.”

I’m still too unraveled with the realization of what Dean is to me. With the information that his dad was the same to my dad. 

“What happened with his dad?” I ask, not wanting to think about Dean’s presentation right now. 

“That’s a story for another time.” 

“Dad-”

“I’ll talk to Bobby when the moon is new. Hopefully, I can convince him to work with us. At the very least, he has to admit that the boy is going to need to know. Even if it’s Bobby that tells him. Even if we’re not allowed to be involved.”

The hair on the back of my neck goes up as my wolf thrashes inside me. “I’m not letting him present without me!”

There’s an immediate _calm, calm, calm_ through our shared thread. I breathe through my anger, feeling conflicted. Feeling as if I’m being pulled in too many directions. I need to be near Dean, but I need to be running under the moon right now too. I need to have this talk with my dad, but I need to be a wolf. I need to be there for my… for _Dean_ when he presents, but I don’t have his consent or his uncle's permission.

“I’m going to talk with Bobby. You just keep an eye on the boy. You’ll probably be the first to know it’s coming on.” 

I dig my nails into the palms of my hands until they bleed. “Okay.”

“Him presenting isn’t going to change anything. It won’t change who he is to you. Who you are to each other.” My dad gives me a sad smile. “Nothing ever changes that.”

“True mates,” I whisper, almost afraid to say it too loud. I had known. The whole time, I had known. It was there in the back of my mind. I’m not an idiot. Omegas don’t smell like Christmas. They don’t smell specific depending on the omega. They all just smell… like omegas. It’s a distinct, never-changing smell that intensifies during their heats before fading back to normal. A nice smell, yes, but a _universal_ smell. 

Omegas only smell distinct to their true mate. 

My wolf kept trying to get me to acknowledge this, but I pushed the thoughts away. 

Dean and I are true mates. 

No wonder I can’t stay the fuck away. 

"I didn't know true mates could smell each other even unpresented." 

"Me either, but it seems to be the case. At least with the two of you."

"You didn't smell Dean's dad before he presented?"

"No. He was just John until one morning he was suddenly more. He went into heat that same day."

"Oh." I stare at Dean through the window, my heart racing. Heat. The poor boy is going to present and go into heat. He's going to be so confused. So terrified. I have to be there for him. “Dad, what am I going to do?”

“You’re going to keep your mate safe.” He squeezes my shoulder and gives me a comforting smile, but there’s a weight to his words. Almost a warning. I want to ask if maybe he wasn’t able to keep Dean’s dad safe. I want to ask if that’s why he left all those years ago and never came back. I want to ask how my dad could have possibly let him go, how it hadn’t torn him into two, because I can’t even fathom losing Dean and I’ve only known him a few days. 

Dad pushes to his feet, stretching his muscles and cracking his joints. Then he nods towards the woods and says, “Come. Run with me.”

“But-”

“Your wolf needs to run. You can keep coming and checking on him if you need to. Just stay out of sight.”

Knowing he’s right, I take a deep breath and lunge forward, shifting mid-air. The two of us land in unison, paws digging into the soft ground. It feels good. Really fucking good. 

I’m not going to lose Dean. It won’t happen. I will protect him with my life. Because he’s mine. 

_Mine, mine, mine._

_Mate, mate, mate._

I throw my head back and howl at the moon. It’s a promise. 

I hope Dean hears it. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Dean**

I avoid Castiel at school on Monday, my thoughts still too messy when it comes to him and his family and the history they seem to have with mine. It's surprisingly easy all morning. There was only one moment, just before 3rd period, where I got a glimpse of him walking to class. Otherwise, it was like he didn't exist. 

Lunch is a different story. I packed my own, so when I enter the cafeteria, I head straight to Benny's table where I've been sitting. I'm stopped halfway by one of the girls who was at the football game. She has blue streaks in her hair, and a black shirt that says Smash the Patriarchy. 

I like her. 

"Hey, you're Dean, right?" 

"Yeah."

"Cool. I'm Charlie." Before I get a chance to respond, she says, "You should come eat with me and my friends today." 

Seeing no reason why not, I agree and begin following her to her table. I'm only a few steps away when I see who is sitting there. Honestly, I probably should have seen it coming. She was at the football game with him. I had seen them talking in the halls. He gives her rides to school. 

She's one of them. 

My two options flash before me as I try to decide if I should close the distance and take the only open seat, which happens to be right next to Castiel, or run out of there with some stammered excuse. 

Castiel chooses for me, turning around and giving me a smile. It doesn't reach his eyes, seeming forced. He looks tired. Strung out. The bags under his eyes don't help. Neither does his messy hair that he's clearly been abusing. 

"Come sit," he says quietly. The words sound an awful lot like a desperate plea. 

It's impossible to deny him.

He releases a soft, almost relieved sigh when I settle in beside him. Part of me thinks he leans in closer to me but I tell myself that’s silly. Wishful thinking. 

“How was your weekend?” he asks, ducking his head and turning into me so the conversation comes off more private. 

I turn to him in the same manner, looking into his blue eyes. They’re not as bright as usual. Not as vibrant. The blue is deeper. Almost… sad. It makes me want to wrap myself around him and make him smile. “Safe.” 

“Mmm.” He closes his eyes for a moment, drawing a breath in through his nose. A smile pulls at his lips. It’s soft and warm. When he looks at me, his eyes are almost back to normal. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of them, my mind going dizzy from the sudden change. “I like you safe.”

“I - you too.” Something starts to buzz in my fingertips. It travels up my arms and across my chest. Down my spine to my toes. I shiver from it, pressing in closer to him until our foreheads are pressed together like at the party. 

A choked growl escapes him and he quickly pulls back, turning his face away from me as he inhales. His body is trembling slightly. His blinks are hard and fast. His breathing is labored. 

“Castiel?” I ask softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

He flinches away and hurries to his feet. He doesn’t look at me as he speaks, staring off somewhere over my shoulder. “I’ll - gotta - just - I’ll be back.”

Then he’s practically sprinting out of the cafeteria. 

I feel embarrassed tears pricking my eyes, but I blink them back and force myself to breathe through it. Then I look up at Charlie who is sitting across from me. She’s watching me carefully, and doesn’t bother trying to hide it. 

“You good?” Charlie asks with a cock of her head. 

“Yeah,” I croak. I clear my throat twice before offering her a shaky smile. “Is he?”

“He’ll be fine,” says a boy to Charlie’s right. “I’m Jack. You’ve met Charlie. And this dork over here is Anna.”

“Fuck off,” the dork - who is a beautiful girl with red hair and hauntingly familiar eyes - growls. Then she turns a sweet smile on me. “Hello.” 

I do an awkward hand wave. “Hey.”

“So, you’re from New York, right?” Anna asks. 

“Yeah.”

“Do you like it here so far?”

“It’s…” I find myself looking over my shoulder, distracted. I’m surprisingly worried about Castiel. There’s an ache in my chest I can’t explain. Something mixed between panic and pain. 

Charlie laughs. “It’s-?”

“Sorry.” I look back at them, rubbing a hand against my chest. The feeling doesn’t go away. “It’s good. I like the slower pace. I could see the moon this weekend, which was beautiful. I almost forgot what it looked like.”

“You like the moon?” Jack asks, his lips quirking. 

“Who doesn’t?” I ask honestly. It makes all 3 of them grin, apparently in agreement with me. I press my hand harder against my chest. It hurts to breathe. 

Jack points a finger and asks, “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just this heavy pressure or something.” I laugh and drop my hand, not wanting to seem weird. “It’s probably just a chest cold coming on.”

“Mmm.” Jack scans me with his eyes for a moment before putting his half-eaten sandwich back in his brown bag and standing up. “I’m gonna go check on Castiel.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from asking if I can join. It would be too random. Almost creepy. Castiel is nothing to me. A guy I have a crush on. A nice guy who cares about a stranger’s safety. 

Trying to lighten the mood when it’s just Anna, Charlie, and I, I crack a joke. “I feel like I’m scaring all of you off one by one.”

This makes them laugh at least. Charlie waves a hand, “We’re harder to scare off than the silly boys.”

“Way harder,” Anna agrees with a wink. I get this feeling that she’s trouble. Her pretty pink bow and sparkly dress is a trick. There’s pure mischief in her eyes. “I think my brother likes you.”

“He definitely likes you,” Charlie agrees with a nod.

I just stare at them for a moment before I manage to ask, “Who is your brother?”

Anna laughs. “Castiel!”

“Oh.” Feeling my cheeks heat, I duck my head and pick at my PB&J sandwich. “Is he, uh - ya know…?”

“Gay?” Charlie says in amusement. “Yes. Or, well, he sort of just likes… everyone. But boys are on the list.” 

“Oh.” 

“Are you gay?” Anna asks before making a grunting sound. I look up just as Charlie is pulling her hand away. She clearly just hit her friend. They stare at each other in silence for a moment, seeming to communicate somehow, before Anna turns to me with an apologetic smile. “That was rude. I didn’t mean to rip you out of the closet or anything. You totally don’t have to answer that.”

“I’m not in the closet,” I assure her. “I like boys.”

Now they both lean forward, excited smiles on their faces. I can’t help but lean back a bit. They remind me of sharks in the water, just having smelled blood. 

“So,” Charlie starts. Anna finishes, “Do you like Castiel?”

_Yes. I like him a lot. So fucking much. I have no idea why because I barely know him, but I feel like I belong with him, and I’m happier with him, and I like him more than anything._

Before I have to stumble through some sort of answer to their question, the lunch bell rings. I sigh in relief and begin packing up my things. 

Neither of them move, eyes trained on me. 

My shoulders slump. I sit back down and ask, “Are we going to be friends?” 

“We’d like that,” Charlie says for the both of them. “If you want.”

“I’d like it too. Is it too early then to enact friend code?”

Anna shakes her head. “Nope!”

“Great. Then, yes, I like him. But friend code - you can’t tell him, because I would _die_. It would be mortifying.”

“But he likes you too!” Charlie nearly yells. 

“No! Friend code!” I shake my head fiercely, praying that these two girls I barely know will actually turn out to be good friends.

They both put their hands up. “Okay, okay. Friend code.”

“Even though he totally likes you too,” Anna adds. 

Charlie nods. “Totally likes you.”

I stand up again, collecting my things. “We’re gonna be late for class.” 

After exchanging knowing looks, the two girls join me. 

  
  


\---- 

  
  


When I walk into my college literature class after lunch, I find Castiel sitting at the desk right beside the one I’ve been sitting at. He looks up as I pass him, his eyes back to normal, his smile genuine. 

I slide onto my chair and place my things on the desk top. Trying not to think about the conversation I had with Charlie and Anna in the lunchroom, I turn to Castiel and return his smile. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah.” He waves it off. “I slept like shit last night. Got a migraine. No big deal. Just needed some Tylenol."

“Oh. Good.” 

“How was the rest of lunch?” 

Picturing his sister and cousin grilling me about my feelings for Castiel makes me blush, so I duck my head before answering. “It was fine.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, concern laced in his voice. 

Not wanting to worry him, I force myself to meet his eyes again. My stupid blush grows and he seems to understand, at least to a point, because he chuckles softly and nods. 

“I’m sure,” I mumble, feeling pouty and shy and quite possibly like I’m falling in love with him, which is absolutely ridiculous because I don’t even really know him at all. 

Thankfully, the teacher starts class after that. He has us open our anthologies to the story we were assigned for our weekend reading. I flip to the page and sit back in my seat, only half listening as he goes on about Jack London. 

After a few minutes, I decide it’s safe enough to peek over at Castiel. He’s listening intently and taking notes. It makes me smile. I had expected him to be the kind of guy that didn’t care - or at least pretended he didn’t care - about school. Then again, I expected him to be one of the football players too, and he turned out not to be. Apparently, he’s much more than he appears to be on the surface. 

I like that a lot. I want to sit with him for hours, peeling back each individual layer, studying him, memorizing him. 

It’s then that I realize my chest is no longer aching. It stopped when I walked into class. It stopped when I laid eyes on Castiel. When he laid eyes on me. 

The pain in my chest, the panic, the burning, it’s all gone. 

All that’s left is Castiel. 

  
  


\----

  
  


Needing to clear my head, I pack my camera and journal into my leather messenger bag and head into the forest behind Uncle Bobby's house. The brush is thick at first but as I push further on, the trees start to thin out. I stumble upon a stretch of grass that looks like it could maybe be a path and start to follow it. There are spots where the path disappears, a small bush or some wildflowers interrupting it, but it always picks back up. It makes me feel slightly better about my possibly reckless decision to go out traipsing in the woods where who knows what kind of wildlife might live. 

The air is cleaner out in the woods. Even more so than in the little town. It smells damp and fresh. There's something heavy that I can't place. Almost syrupy. And something floral, whenever the wind shifts. Honeysuckle, perhaps? 

I find myself just standing in the middle of the path-that's-not-really-a-path with my head tilted back, eyes closed, breathing it all in. Sunlight comes through the little openings among the treetops, pouring over me. I take my camera out to try and capture the view, then begin exploring. 

My card memory is running low by the time I reach a beautiful clearing full of bright green grass and wildflowers. I curse myself for not thinking to pack more, but decide to let it go. There will be plenty more days like this. I definitely want to stay in this town for the rest of the year. Maybe even longer. Lebanon is sleepy and peaceful. I can breathe here. It feels safe. 

It feels like home. 

Sitting down in the clearing, I put my bag on the ground with my camera safely tucked inside and lay back in the longer grass. Blades of green tickle my cheeks as I close my eyes and breathe. 

I'm not sure how long I lay there. It could be a minute, or an hour. A noise off to my left startles me out of my trance, sending me into an upright position. My heart beats hard enough to make my chest feel bruised as I hurry to get to my feet. I nearly trip over my bag, stumbling a few steps as I try to catch my balance. 

I gain my footing just as a pair of inky black paws press against the grass mere inches from the toes of my chucks. 

Holding as still as possible, and making sure not to breathe or make a sound, I slowly lift my head to see the animal in front of me. 

It takes my breath away. The decision to stay still and quiet is ignored by my instincts, and I find myself taking a few quick steps back. It's the shape of a wolf, but… huge. Otherworldly. The creature is almost completely covered in the deep black fur that covers his paws, a tiny patch of white on his chest being the only discrepancy. 

What has me unable to breathe, though, isn't the fear or its size. 

The thing holding my breath hostage is its _eyes_. 

Those blue eyes that are so bright they can't possibly be real. 

I've seen those eyes in a different face before, and when I look directly into them now, I get the same feeling I always have. That warm sensation that crawls its way along my body until it's settled into my bones. 

But this isn't Castiel. It's a _wolf_. Now is not the time for my obsession with Castiel to affect my thoughts. I can't be seeing impossible things. 

I need to survive this. 

But how? 

Since it hadn't made the wolf move or growl the last time, I decide to try and step back a few more times. It watches me with a curious head tilt that's far too adorable for an animal so dangerous. I wonder if he's curious about my actions, or just curious about how great I'm going to taste. 

The thought adds fuel to the steady panic building in my chest. My stomach turns violently, making me feel dizzy and cold. 

I don't even notice the wolf moving until his cold nose is pressing against my right hand. I lock my body up and hold my breath as it sniffs me. I wait for it to clamp down and tear my arm off. Or maybe to bite first. Take his time gnawing on my wrist.

I expect it to at least _growl_. 

What I don't expect is for the wolf to lick its pink tongue along my forearm and across my fingers before gently ducking its head until my hand is between its ears. It does a little shimmy and presses in closer. 

A sudden feeling of _calm, calm, calm_ runs through me. It's the strangest thing, a reckless thing, but I listen to the tiny voice inside my mind. I let my guard down a little. Just an inch or two. 

Tentatively, I push my fingers through the wolf's fur and pet it. The wild animal melts under the touch. A happy sound similar to purring vibrates through its massive body. 

"Well, you're not very intimidating after all," I inform it in a slightly amused but mostly amazed whisper. 

As if it understands me, the wolf chuffs and darts its eyes in an impressive glare. 

"I'm sorry." I go back to petting it, which seems to make it forgive me. "You're extremely intimidating. In fact, I'm starting to think you already killed me and this is some form of a weird death dream."

The wolf makes a noise that I could swear sounds amused. It lifts then to stand on its four legs, making my hand fall from its head. When it lifts its chin to look me in the eye, I realize the wolf is tall enough to press its nose against my chest. 

Which is exactly what it does. 

"Is this the part where you eat my heart now?" I ask as the thing sniffs me. Its wet nose tickles along my throat, and I shiver when it presses against the part of my neck that's always been strangely sensitive. Right where 3 of my freckles form a triangle. 

"I think I'm dead. This is my imagination." The wolf ignores me, too busy taking deep breaths against my skin. I can't help but laugh. "You're as bad as Castiel. Is that it? Am I dead and now living in a weird spiritual world where the guy I'm falling for is suddenly a fucking wolf?"

The wolf pulls away, its eyes burrowing into mine at my words. 

Except _not_ at my words, because its a _wolf_ and wolves can't understand English. 

"I'm going crazy," I tell myself and the wolf. The wolf just licks my cheek. "I'm officially crazy." 

It makes a tiny noise that could be considered a growl if I was determined to see it that way. It was more of a pouty grumble, though. 

Then it backs away slowly, watching me as if I'm the dangerous one in this clearing. When it gets to my bag, it lowers its head and noses against the leather before nudging it a few inches closer to me in the grass. It stares at me for a few seconds before doing it again. 

“Are you telling me to leave?” 

The wolf yips. When I do nothing, it huffs and pushes against the bag again. I’m pretty sure it's only seconds away from picking it up with its teeth and bringing it to me. 

“Jeez. Okay. I’m going.” I walk over and take the bag, the wolf backing away quickly before I can get too close to it. I sling my bag over my shoulder and narrow my eyes. The thing is beautiful. Mostly dangerous. Probably a hallucination. Could be a strange spiritual world metaphor for Castiel. But definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, beautiful. 

I reach into my bag for my camera, needing to take a picture of it. The wolf perks when it sees the device and quickly turns away. I manage to snap a single photograph before my screen lights up to tell me I’m officially out of room on my memory card. 

When I look up to find the wolf again, it’s gone. 

\---- 

The moment Uncle Bobby comes home from the shop, I blurt out, “Are there domesticated wolves here?”

He freezes, the door still open behind him. I watch his face as it struggles to figure out what expression it wants to settle on. It lands somewhere between rage and terror. “Where did you see a wolf? Was there one by the house?”

“No, there was one in the woods.”

“What the fuck were you doing in the woods?”

I flinch. “I wanted to take pictures.”

“You shouldn’t go in there!”

“You never told me that!”

“You’re a fucking city boy! I didn’t think I’d have to! What kid from New York likes adventuring in the goddamn woods?”

“I guess I do.” I deflate, shaking my head. “I like it out there. It feels-”

“You are not to go in the woods again. Understood?”

“But-”

“And the wolves aren't domesticated. They’re just normal, dangerous wolves. Stay out of there.”

“This one was-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Dean!” Uncle Bobby slams the door and surges into the house, not bothering to take his dirty boots off. “Never again. Understood?”

Curling my hands into fists, I nod my head and lie. “Understood.”

He releases a deep, relieved sigh and runs a hand down his face. Then he walks up to me and cups my cheek. “Did it - are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I try to lighten the mood by adding, “So, by your clear hatred of wolves, I’m assuming you don’t want to see the picture I managed to take of it…” 

Uncle Bobby’s head snaps up. “A picture?”

“Yeah. It’s a little blurry because it started running off, but it still turned out pretty good.” 

“How close did this wolf get to you?”

I shrug, feeling like I’m going to get yelled at again. “Close.” 

“Show me the picture.”

“Okay.” I grab my camera and go through my images until I get to the last one. I zoom in once to get rid of the extra green space around the edges, then hand it to him. 

Uncle Bobby barely looks at the camera before bringing his eyes up to me. “Great picture, kiddo. Just stay out of the woods. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I need to run to the store. Need anything?”

I look him over, taking in how dirty he is. He always showers after work. It’s bad enough he tracked motor oil into the house. Now he’s going to go grocery shopping like this? 

Apparently Uncle Bobby really hates the wolves. Almost as much as he hates the Novaks. 

“I could use more cereal, I guess.”

“Cereal it is.”

  
  
  


**Castiel**

I’m just getting out of the shower when I hear the yelling. I yank on a pair of shorts, not caring that I’m dripping wet, and take the stairs two at a time. It’s my dad, my uncle, and some other male voice that seems vaguely familiar. When I make out Dean’s name, I realize who the voice belongs to. 

I also realize that this is my fault. 

100% my fault. 

Jack meets me at the bottom of the stairs, the two of us hurrying into the foyer at the same time. Standing in front of my dad and Uncle Luke with a bright red face is Dean’s Uncle Bobby. The confirmation that he’s the one here is like kerosene to my guilt. 

The moment his eyes find me and Jack, he’s barreling forward. “Which one of you fuckers is a black wolf?”

“You stay away from them!” my dad growls. “You need to calm down!”

“One of them came near my nephew! I want to know which one.”

“They go to school together, Bob. They can’t help-”

“Not at school. In the woods behind my house!” Bobby says, interrupting my dad. He takes a step towards him and I see for a moment who they probably were a long time ago. There’s still an air to them. A rhythm to their words and movements. They were best friends. Almost like brothers. They were just like me and Jack. “Dean went to take photos in the woods and one of your _wolves_ interacted with him. A black one. The kid has a fucking picture of it!”

My dad turns on his heel, his eyes boring into mine. Jack's wolf isn't black, so he knows damn well it was me. His eyes flash red and I instinctively take a step back. “Were you in the woods by Dean’s?”

“He came into the clearing while I was running.” 

“He was in the clearing?”

“Yes, sir.”

My dad looks at Bobby with a frown. “He was on pack land.”

“He doesn’t know where pack land is.”

“Then tell him,” my dad says simply. 

The two men glare at each other for a few seconds. Then, sneering at my dad, Bobby growls, “Of course it’d be your son. I should have known it’d be your boy who put mine in danger.”

“Bob-”

“Stay. Away. From. Him.” Bobby looks at me, pointing a finger. “Especially you.”

“Bob, I’ve been trying to call you all day. We need to talk about-”

“There’s not a damn thing to talk about.” Bobby turns away from us all, walking to the door. He doesn’t even bother to look back as he says, “The next Novak I see near my house or Dean gets a silver bullet to the heart. Human or wolf form. I don’t fucking care.”

Just as he yanks the door open, dad says in his calm, authoritative alpha voice, “He’s an omega, Bob.”

Bobby pauses on the doorstep. I listen to his heartbeat, stunned to hear it remain steady. He knew. He already figured it out. Bobby confirms this, turning back to speak to my father’s face. “He has the gene, but he never presented. John took him away from here. His only wish in life was to keep Dean away from this. Out of everyone, you should respect that.”

“He never presented because John took him away. You brought him back. He’s near wolves. A pack.” My dad looks over at me. His voice dips lower. “He’s near his true mate. He’s going to present.”

“Then we’ll move.”

“It’s too late, Bob.”

“No. It’s not.” The human’s heart begins to reflect panic. He’s starting to realize it, now. He can’t keep Dean from this life. This is happening whether Bobby likes it or not. “If he hasn’t presented yet, it’s not too late.”

“And if you’re wrong?” my dad asks. “If you move him away from here, and you’re wrong, what then?”

“Then I’ll handle it. Or have you forgotten that I know what omegas go through? Have you forgotten who got John through his heats before he was old enough to get fucked by you? Who made sure he got water? Who listened to him cry for hours because of how much it hurt?" Bobby steps forward, his body vibrating with rage. "Who the fuck do you think had been helping him all these years since he left you? I know what the fuck I'm doing."

My dad releases a terrible sound that I’ve never heard him make before. Then he’s slamming Bobby up against the wall, his hand around his throat. Bobby doesn’t even look scared. Just pissed. “Are you forgetting how all of that pain stopped when I started to see him? Are you forgetting that with me, John's heats were bearable? Pleasurable? I could make him laugh during them. Make him sleep. Relax. I could-”

“Stop talking about him, you son of a bitch!” Bobby barks, shoving my dad away. I know that my dad let him. Or maybe let him isn’t the exact word. My dad looks wrecked. Unable to meet anyone’s eye. His breathing labored. His whole body trembling. 

I step in. 

Dean is my true mate after all. 

“Sir, I can take care of Dean. I can-”

“You can what? Huh? _Protect_ him?” Bobby sneers. “Ask your _father_ how great Novaks are at _protecting_ their omegas.”

“Don’t assume my son would make my mistakes,” my dad says in a low, haunted voice. 

“Don’t assume I’ll give him the fucking chance.”

“Bob-”

“I already let you take John from me. You moved on, Michael. You found a new mate. Pretty soon after, if I’m remembering correctly. Popped out babies. Made your own shiny new pack.” Bobby spits in my dad’s direction. My dad growls under his breath, but does nothing else. A thick, suffocating swarm of guilt and grief is flooding our pack threads. I’ve never seen him lose control of his emotions like this. “I won’t let you take Dean.” 

Bobby opens the door and walks out, not even looking back before slamming the door shut. I start to chase after him, refusing to let him leave, refusing to let him take Dean, but my dad stops me with a hand to the back of my neck. I fight him, but he squeezes until the wolf in me whimpers. 

“He won’t take Dean, son. I won’t let him.”

“But he said-”

My dad lets go of me, the pack threads already clear and focused again. He sends me a steady, _calm, calm, calm_ and _trust, trust, trust._ I breathe it all in, sighing in relief when they take root. “The next time you have a chance, the very next time, you need to kiss Dean. If you can keep yourself under control, kiss along his mating gland. It should push him over the edge. I have no idea how in the hell he hasn’t presented already, but that should be the final straw for his omega.”

I nod rapidly. “Yes, sir.”

“But I swear to god, Castiel - if you lose control and claim that boy, I will kick your ass out of this pack. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” 

He opens his mouth as if to say more, but freezes. I follow his line of sight to see that my mom is standing in the doorway. The look on her face is impossible to read. Her threads are muted and shut down. I wonder how much of the fight she had heard. 

I wonder what her part was in the drama that occured all those years ago. 

With a quick hug and a whispered, “Everything’s going to be just fine, son,” my dad leaves me behind and goes to my mom. She takes his hand, giving him a comforting smile before leading him away. My Uncle Luke goes in the opposite direction. 

When it’s just Jack and I, Jack raises an eyebrow. “So, kissing Dean.”

“Yeah.” I release a breathy laugh. “Any ideas? Other than shoving him up against his locker first thing in the morning and kissing him until he presents?”

“I think we can do better than that. Come upstairs. Let’s brainstorm.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Dean**

The wolf picture no longer exists this morning. I search the memory card twice while it's in my camera, then take it out and put it into my laptop to check it again. The pictures of the sunlight through the trees are there. The picture of the strangely colored squirrel. The pictures of the wildflowers. Of the clearing. Of a hummingbird hovering mid-air. 

But no wolf. 

It's just… gone. 

When Uncle Bobby comes into the kitchen, sitting down with his own bowl of cereal across from me, I ask, "Did you delete that picture from my camera?"

He looks at me in confusion. "What picture?"

"Of the wolf. The one I showed you."

"A wolf? When did you show me a wolf picture?"

"Yesterday!" I sit up straight, feeling angry and confused. It happened. I know it did. The wolf was real. "We got into a fight about me going into the woods and the wolf I saw, and then I showed you the picture." 

He chuckles. "I think you had yourself quite the dream last night."

"No, it was yesterday! It happened right over there. You came in and we fought. I showed you the picture. You asked what I wanted from the store. I said more of my cereal, and then you left."

"Son," my uncle says softly, looking worried. "That didn't happen. I worked late last night. You were already asleep when I came home. I didn't go to the store. That's why you're eating my cereal this morning. And there was never a talk about wolves. I was never shown a picture."

"I - but…" I close my eyes, replaying it all in my head. It's already too fuzzy. Faded. Just like a dream, slipping away by the minute until you can no longer recall the details. 

Burying my face in my hands, I groan. "I'm going crazy."

Uncle Bobby chuckles, patting my back. "It's been a very hard 2 weeks, kiddo. Do you want to just take the day off? Get some rest?" 

"No. I need to go to school. I'm fine." I stand up and bring my cereal bowl to the sink. Everything feels unreal now. It feels like I can't trust myself to know what's real and what's a dream. Am I even awake? 

Holy crap, I really am going crazy. 

"Have a good day, kid," Uncle Bobby says with his signature smile, waving a hand as I grab my backpack. 

"Yeah." I squint at him. I swear… we fought right here. I… god, I could have _sworn_ that happened. "Have a good day, Uncle Bobby."

\---- 

I still feel out of it at lunch, my mind elsewhere as I dig in my backpack for my bag of food. That's probably why I don't notice the large boy standing by me. At least not until he says, "Hello, Dean."

I jump, my elbow hitting my locker as I hurry to turn and look at him. The words _you scared me_ dissolve on my tongue as I remind myself he knows. He always knows. 

“Hey,” I finally manage to say. Then, “Hello.” 

He smirks. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

“God, you’re cute.” I stare up at him in shock, not sure if I believe what I just heard. As Uncle Bobby made clear this morning, I’m apparently going crazy, imagining things that aren’t real. “Will you eat lunch with me today?”

“Yes.”

His smile is brilliant. “Awesome. Come with me.” 

I turn back and quickly grab the lunch I had forgotten all about, then shut my locker and look at him again. It feels like I need him to tell me the next step. Maybe he feels that way too because he slides a hand into my free one and begins walking, pulling me along with him. I find myself trying to process that I’m walking down the hall holding Castiel’s hand. 

“Am I awake?” I ask out loud. 

Castiel chuckles softly. “Pretty sure. Unless we’re both sleeping.”

“Oh.” I look down at our hands again. “Okay.”

“Why wouldn’t you be awake?”

“I just - well, I had the weirdest dream yesterday. I was convinced it was real, but it wasn’t, and now I feel like I’m going crazy.”

He frowns. “What was the dream?”

“You aren’t allowed to laugh at me,” I warn, feeling insecure but also excited. Maybe he’ll be able to help me sort everything out. “Promise?”

“Promise. No laughing.”

“Okay. So, I went into the woods and - wait, where are we going?” I stop and look around myself, realizing he’s brought us towards the back of the school. It’s the opposite direction of the cafeteria. 

Castiel just gives me a mischievous smile. “We’re going to eat lunch.”

“The cafeteria is-”

“That way. I know. We’re going to eat outside. It’s beautiful out.” 

“I’m not allowed in the woods,” I tell him quickly, even though my uncle never actually told me that, because our fight apparently never actually happened. 

My words bother Castiel. Tension rolls through his muscles, and somehow, unexplainably, I feel it in my own body. There’s a sudden surge of anger in my chest. My hands itch to grab something and hold it tight. Castiel tightens his fingers around my small hand in his, looking down at me with eyes that look so much like that wolf from my dream. 

He inhales deeply, those bright blue eyes closing. “We won’t go in the woods.” 

“Did that ruin your plan?” I ask, worried I upset him.

“No.” Castiel opens his eyes again, giving me a surprisingly warm smile. His expression softens as he looks at me. When he starts to walk again, I go with him, trusting that he won’t let anything happen to me. “Now, tell me about this dream.”

“I went in the woods yesterday to clear my head and take some pictures, and-”

“Wait, you went into the woods for real, or is this part of the dream?”

“This part is real,” I explain. “But I found this clearing and I laid down, and now I’m thinking I fell asleep there. But it doesn’t make sense if I fell asleep there, because then I would have had to wake up to come home, and part of the dream was me coming home and then I was just home but I shouldn’t have been home if it was a dream.” 

He squints at me, clearly confused. It makes me laugh softly. “That made no sense, did it?"

“Not really.” He opens one of the doors to the outside, placing a gentle hand on the small of my back to guide me through it first. I feel like this should be against the school rules, but I don’t ask. I don’t care. “You don’t know what parts were real and what parts were a dream, right?” 

“Right.”

“So just tell me all of it, start to finish. Don’t worry about what was real.”

Castiel leads me to the open field that I know the football team practices on. He sits down on the grass, apparently not bothered if he gets his clothes dirty. I follow. 

“Well, I went in the woods to take pictures, and then I came across this clearing. It was beautiful. The grass was insanely bright green and there were little wildflowers all over. And I just laid in the center of it and relaxed. It felt amazing.” I pause, fiddling with the corner of my brown-bagged lunch. “In the city, it always felt like I was suffocating. I have no idea why. It just never felt… right. But here, it’s easier to breathe. And in that clearing, it was like… I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” He reaches over, brushing my hair off of my forehead. “What was it like?”

“Safe,” I admit on a whisper, staring at him in a semi-trance as his fingertips brush along my skin. 

He gives me a slow smile. “Good. Safe is good.”

“Then there was this… thing.”

“Thing?” he asks, his eyebrow raising, his mouth twisting with amusement. 

“Well, it was a wolf. It _looked_ like a wolf, at least. But it was fucking huge. Like, up to my chest, huge. I thought for sure it was going to kill me.” 

Castiel’s expression is calm, which is how I know he thinks this was a dream. Anyone else would be freaking out, asking me a flurry of panicked questions. Instead, he just tilts his head and waits for me to continue. 

“It sort of just… looked at me, though. It did this little head tilt that was-” I stop myself, staring at Castiel. At his tilted head. At the stark similarity. I look into his eyes. Those eyes that are already so unbelievably familiar. Those eyes that I could have sworn I saw on that beautiful wolf. 

“Was?” Castiel prompts, his voice low and husky all of a sudden. 

I quickly turn my attention back to my lunch, feeling even crazier than before. “It was cute. The head tilt.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat before echoing, “ _Cute_?” in a voice coated in disgust. 

“I know, I’m crazy. I’m calling a dangerous, huge, scary as hell wild animal cute.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t _cute_ ,” he argues. I can’t help but smile at the face he’s making, even though I don’t know why he’s so determined to maintain this imaginary wolf’s reputation. 

“Agree to disagree,” I tease. “Anyway, he did the head tilt and I was convinced he was going to eat me. But when he came up he just, sort of - I dunno. It doesn’t matter. And then-”

“No, no, no. Details.” Castiel leans closer to me, his eyes bright, his smile wide. “What did he do?”

Smiling as I remember how he had reminded me of Castiel, I decide to tell him, “He kept smelling me. Apparently he could smell whatever it is that you keep smelling.”

Castiel’s eyes narrow. His pupils dilate. “Maybe he did.”

My breath catches as I find myself caught in his gaze. I suddenly feel trapped, my heart racing just like it had when faced with the wolf. The wolf that was so much like Castiel. 

The eyes. 

The smelling. 

The head tilt. 

“Why are you convinced this didn’t happen?” he whispers. I want to ask him why he’s whispering, but realize I already know. 

I whisper too. “I thought I got a picture of it.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. No wolf picture on my camera this morning.” I shrug despite the fact that my eyes are starting to burn. It almost feels like I’m grieving the wolf. It’s the most ridiculous thing, but I can’t help it. 

“Don’t be sad,” Castiel begs, pushing my lunch away so he can get closer to me. His hand carefully wraps around the back of my neck at the same time that he leans forward, pressing our foreheads against each other, the tip of his nose brushing mine. “Please don’t be sad.”

“How do you know I’m sad?”

I can’t see his smile, but I feel it. Our lips brush together for just a second when his mouth shifts into the expression. “Because I always know, remember?”

“Yeah. I remember.” I take in a shaky breath, trying to calm myself. He doesn’t want me to be sad. I don’t want to be either. “The wolf was just… beautiful, and it didn’t hurt me. It was gentle and - and I just… I wanted it to be real. I know that’s stupid.”

“It’s not.”

“I could’ve sworn it was real. I - I was so sure of it, Castiel.” I close my eyes, feeling my cheeks burn. “I even imagined fighting with my uncle about the wolf and about going in the woods. I imagined showing him the picture. But the picture is gone this morning, and he said we never had that fight. None of it ever happened.”

A sudden rage overwhelms me, a fire that burns its way through my veins until I feel the urge to throw my head back and scream. Or howl. 

“Castiel-”

I swear, it sounds like he growls.

“Castiel, calm down,” I whisper. “Just calm down. Breathe.”

Each inhale is calmer than the last, the beautiful man - and that’s what he is, a man, even if he’s my age, I can feel it, he’s all man - relaxing against me as the seconds pass. With one final intake of breath, deep and through his nose, Castiel pulls away to look me in the eyes. His own eyes are hooded. “How did you know?”

I huff an incredulous laugh. “I don’t know. I - this is going to sound crazy, but-”

“You felt it,” he finishes. 

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” He presses his hand that isn’t on the back of my neck to my chest. Right over my heartbeat. "It's how I know too."

This is crazy. 

"The wolf reminded me of you."

He nods, as if he expected that. As if it makes sense. 

Maybe it does. 

"I'm better than him, though. Wanna know why?"

"Why?" I ask breathlessly. 

"He doesn't get to do this." 

Castiel presses his mouth to mine, the kiss firm yet somehow impossibly gentle. He takes his time, not rushing or getting slobbery, not attacking me with his tongue. It's nothing like the few kisses I've had with other boys. Which makes sense. 

We already established that Castiel is a man. 

The tip of Castiel's tongue slides across the seam of my lips. I open for him, shivering as he deepens the kiss. He tastes - he tastes like he shouldn't. My tongue comes alive with notes of peppermint and hot chocolate, even though it's not possible. 

Castiel pulls away, pressing a hand to my chest when I try to chase him. The two of us sit there, panting as we stare at each other.

"Was that okay?" he rasps, his body literally trembling as he fights something inside himself. Something I can't feel. Something I can't understand. 

"Very." I lick my lips, humming in appreciation when I taste him there. Then my body tenses, and I wonder, "Was it okay for you?"

He growls, "Fuck yes." 

Then, two large hands are gripping me tight and yanking me into his lap, my legs falling on each side to straddle him. His strong arms grow iron tight around my smaller body, but I don't feel trapped or afraid. I just feel safe. 

I feel at home.

There's a low rumble in Castiel's chest as he presses one hand to the base of my spine and the other against the back of my head, pulling me into a kiss that's the opposite of what he gave me before. 

This kiss is full of need. Desperation. It's rough, his teeth nipping at my lips in between pushes and pulls. He licks his way into my mouth and groans. I want to ask him what I taste like. I want to ask him why he tastes the way he does. I want to ask him why we can feel each other. How it's possible. How any of this is possible. 

I want to ask him if he's the wolf. 

But he's kissing me dizzy, and my body is turning into goo, and there's no room for things like that when my mind is occupied with _mine, mine, mine_ and _claim, claim, claim_ and _mate, mate, mate._

The thoughts aren't mine. Somehow, I know that.

It's Castiel. 

It's all just Castiel.

_Mine, mine, mine._

He growls, and I realize that time was me. 

_I_ was thinking that. 

And I think he could hear it. 

I should be freaking out. I should be wondering how this is possible. I should be wondering if I should check myself into the nearest psychiatric facility. 

Instead, I wrap my arms around Castiel's neck to try to get even closer to him. 

The fingers in my hair grip tight, yanking my head back and to the side. I cry out, my head spinning with the pleasurable pain. Lips start trailing down my neck, taking their damn sweet time as he licks and sucks and nibbles.

When Castiel tilts my head to the other side, exposing the second half of my neck to him, I whimper. Something sharp and hot zings up my spine. My hips move on their own, grinding me down against his denim-covered erection. The _mine, mine, mine_ is growled in my head now, echoed with the soft growls pouring from Castiel's body. 

He pulls back just before his lips brush against a spot on my neck where I know there's a freckle triangle. Castiel’s thumb plays connect-the-dots with them, pulling a high, needy sound out of me that I swear I've never made before. 

Castiel's body goes still against mine, his thumb frozen on the spot. 

"Sorry," I gasp, an overwhelming urge to submit to him growing stronger every second he continues touching the spot. "That was-"

"Fucking hot," he finishes, his eyes lifting to look into mine. The blue is sharper. Crisp. White around the edges. It reminds me of lakes when they're frozen over. "You have no idea what I want to do to you right now."

Before I can ask him to tell me, he tightens his grip on my hair and moves his thumb away. He lowers his head until I can feel his breath skating over the sensitive area. I squirm in his lap, feeling like I'm crawling out of my skin. 

"Please," I whine, even though I have no idea what I'm asking for. 

"Hold still, Dean," he orders, his voice low and authoritative. "Be good for me. Hold very still."

I want to be good for him. 

I _need_ to be. 

I nod, holding my breath and calming my body. It reminds me of the moment in the clearing when I was faced with the wolf. 

The wolf that was so much like Castiel. 

My head spins. My body aches. My mind fills with an urgent, _mine, mine, min_ e. Then _safe, safe, safe._ His lips tentatively press against the spot and it takes everything inside me to not writhe against him. A tear falls down my cheek from the effort. 

I hear a _gentle, gentle, gentle_ followed by a _calm, calm, calm_ but I somehow know they aren't meant for me. They're reminders to himself. They're Castiel trying to stay in control. 

The last thing I hear, a word I know in my soul was meant for me, is _mate_. Then he's wrapping his lips around the entire triangle, his tongue darting out to lick across it, and I'm lost. I feel him suck on the skin, but it's distant. I feel his teeth lightly scrape, but it's muted. 

All I can concentrate on is this white-hot heat suddenly blooming in my stomach, working its way through me until I'm sweaty and shivering. 

When I come back to myself, it's to a cadence of _safe, safe, safe_ and _love, love, love_. I blink and realize I'm in Castiel's arms, curled up in his lap, my cheek resting on his shoulder, my nose pressed against the side of his throat. 

The words continue in my mind, but the ones he's speaking out loud to me are louder. More desperate. "Please be okay. Please, Dean. Please be okay."

"I'm okay," I whisper, noticing the way his chest heaves and then shudders at my words.

"Do you hate me?" 

I pull away, blinking lazily at him. I feel a little dazed still. It's sort of like a post-orgasm bliss, but different. More… encompassing. 

It's too hard to explain. 

"Why would I hate you?"

"Because I - you - are you okay?" he asks desperately, his voice cracking on the final syllable. 

I laugh. It's soft at first, but quickly bubbles into a full-body thing that hurts my stomach and makes me cry in the best way. By the time I've calmed down, he's smiling tentatively at me. Breathless, I tell him, "I've never been better."

He perks up like a puppy being praised. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." As my body comes out of the state he had put it in, my mind solidifies. I shake my head in confusion as details of our kiss, of our time together, of the wolf in the forest, try to fit together. "Castiel?"

"Yeah?"

"Were you the wolf?" 

His eyes pull away from mine, focusing on the part of my neck he had used to drive me out of my mind. He straightens my shirt. Gently guides me off of his lap. Nudges my lunch towards me with his hand in the same way the wolf had nudged my bag with its nose. 

"You should eat," he says quietly. "The bell will ring soon." 

We finished our lunch quietly, only exchanging a few words here or there about homework or school gossip.

He never answered my question. 

Then again, didn't he?


	7. Chapter 7

**Castiel**

It happens at lunch the day after I kissed Dean. 

Charlie and Jack are in a heated debate over Star Wars versus Star Trek. Anna is texting someone on her phone that makes her blush and smile. I'm enjoying the heat of Dean beside me, trying not to think too much about our lunch yesterday because I'm not sure I'd be able to stop myself from kissing him again. Dean is quiet today, our thread so messy and cluttered that I can barely see through it all. 

About halfway through the lunch hour, I start to feel off. It's a distant feeling. Almost too muted to grasp. When I hear a tiny whimper from Dean, I look over to find one hand clutching his stomach. His eyes are shut, his chin dropped as he breathes through whatever pain he's experiencing. A new wave of that strange feeling hits me. At the same time, he tenses and whimpers again. 

That's when I realize it's Dean. 

The muted pain I'm feeling - it's _Dean's_ pain. 

I put my hand on his thigh. He leans closer to me immediately, pressing his body against mine so hard I knock into Jack before I can gain my bearings. Little pulses of warm relief run through our thread, a soft sigh escaping Dean’s lips as he breathes me in. 

“Are you okay?” I ask. 

“Yeah. I - yeah.” He shudders, then moves away from me quickly, a horrified look on his face. His eyes are impossibly wide, his cheeks and neck bright red. “Oh my god, I am so sorry! I’m so sorry, that was, I don’t know why I did that! I - I got, uh - like… dizzy or something. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. Are you sure-”

“I’ll be - I’m gonna be right back.” He stumbles to his feet, tripping over himself. Jack reaches out to catch him. I feel my cousin tense up beside me the moment he touches Dean, his smile tight as he helps him steady himself. We watch in unison as Dean hurries unsteadily through the cafeteria, his legs shaking hard enough for us to see. 

“Castiel,” Jack says in a low, controlled voice that’s so out of character for him it sends a pulse of fear to my core. 

I look at him. “Yeah?”

“I can smell him.” 

My eyes flutter shut as both relief and fear thrum in my chest. This is it. It was the goal. Now, his uncle won’t have a choice. His uncle will have to tell him. To explain. Then, it’ll be up to Dean to choose what he wants. 

But presenting is… presenting is hell. I’ve heard the stories. 

And Dean probably only has a few hours before things get bad. 

“I have to find him.” I push to my feet, now feeling just as shaky as Dean had looked. “Shit, I have to - someone call my dad. Jack. Jack, call my dad.”

“I’m on it.”

I walk slowly through the cafeteria, not wanting to draw attention. Once I’m in the empty halls, I lean my head back, close my eyes, and inhale. At the same time, I grab the end of our thread and tug on it. 

Then I’m drowning. 

Heading in Dean’s direction, I send him a steady stream of _calm, calm, calm_ and _safe, safe, safe_. It’s only a matter of seconds before I find him. He didn’t get far, having ducked into the boys locker room just around the corner from the cafeteria. 

“Dean?” I shout, smelling him but unable to get my eyes on him. 

A tiny whimper gets me to pivot to the right, frantically scanning until I find him. He’s on the floor, curled in on himself in a corner between a set of lockers and the wall. I approach him like I would a feral wolf, refusing to risk scaring him. 

“Dean?” He peeks up at me through his lashes that are already soaked with tears, his arms loosening ever so slightly so he’s no longer squeezing the shit out of his body. I give him a smile I don’t mean. “Hey you.”

“I d’n feel s’good,” he cries, fresh tears falling down his cheeks. A violent tremor rocks his body. I grit my teeth, feeling the echo of it inside me. 

God, he smells… _so fucking_ _good_. 

I have to close my eyes and calm myself, breathing through my mouth instead of my nose. It just barely helps. The taste of him is still pretty fucking hard to resist. 

“Let’s get you out of here, okay?” I ask once I’ve finally gotten myself under control. 

His only response is a sad little, “Mmgh.” 

“Do you trust me?” 

“Mhm.” His lips quirk. He rubs at an eye with his fist. “Wolf di’nt hur’me.” 

“You’re right. The wolf didn’t hurt you.” 

“Trus’ you.”

“Because I’m the wolf,” I say, not needing to ask. 

He looks up at me with so much vulnerability in his pretty green eyes. “Aren’ you?”

“Yeah, Dean. Yes. I am.” 

“Wh-” he stops, his eyes screwing shut as his hands claw at his stomach. A choked gasp rips its way out of him and a surge of pain knocks the breath out of my lungs, our thread vibrating with terror. 

“Wha’s happenin’me?” he sobs when he’s finally able to. 

“I’ll explain. I’m going to explain everything. I know what this is, okay? So don’t be afraid. I know what this is. I know how to take care of you. All you have to do is trust me.”

Our thread bursts bright with relief. Dean pours himself forward until he’s in my arms, his face buried in my neck. I adjust him so his nose is pressed against the spot where he’ll bite me back during our claiming - if we ever do claim each other. It should calm his omega to breathe that spot in, and it seems to work, his muscles relaxing against me as I lift him up and begin to carry him. 

“Not home,” he whispers against my skin. He sniffles, gripping me tighter, his fingers pressing into my back as he clings to me in clear desperation. “Uncle hates you.”

I chuckle, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Don’t worry about any of that, sweetheart. You just relax and let me handle everything.”

He doesn’t argue. He just relaxes into my hold, presses his lips to my claiming spot, and breathes a sigh of relief. 

A soft _safe, safe, safe_ warms our thread. 

It takes me a few seconds to realize it’s not me sending it. 

It’s him. 

\---- 

My dad is on the phone when I walk into the house with Dean in my arms. There’s fury and concern coming off of him in waves, so thick I can smell it in the air. He presses the phone to his chest, the two of us still able to hear the shouted words through the device, and gives me a tight smile. His eyes rake over Dean, flashing red. A quick _pack, safe, Dean, pack_ strums through the pack threads. Every member of the pack starts sending things back, warming my chest with _Dean_ and _pack_ , with _omega_ and _safe_ , with _Castiel_ and _mate_ , with _love, love, love._

Dean releases a sleepy sigh against me, the pain that had been wrapped tightly around him beginning to loosen. 

“Bring him to your room. Your scent will make him feel better.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I need you to come downstairs.” I tense, raising my chin to openly glare at the man that’s my father and my alpha. I’m willing to fight over this. He doesn’t give me the chance. “Anna will watch him for a moment. You and I need to talk. You’re smart enough to know that. Then you can go back to your omega.”

I don’t like it, but at least it’s Anna that will be watching him. The human. No possible threat. 

I carry Dean through the large house, for the first time hating the enormity of the place. It feels like forever before I can get him peacefully in my bed. I tuck him beneath the blankets and brush the hair off his sweaty forehead. He blinks up at me, his eyes foggy and unfocused. “No lea’me.”

“I’m coming back. I’ll be right back.” I press a kiss to his lips, smiling against him when I feel his pain ebb. I promise a final time, “I’ll be back,” before I force myself to walk out of the room, giving Anna the all clear in the hallway to let her know she can enter the bedroom without me ripping her head off. 

When I get back to my father, Bobby has arrived. The man is yelling, his arms flying through the air, but he can't fool us. We're wolves here. We can all smell the terror coming off of him in thick waves. The grief. The desperation. His rage is barely an afterthought, even if that's the only thing he's willing to acknowledge himself. 

Bobby starts barreling towards me the moment our eyes meet. My dad starts to stop him but I put a hand up, letting him know I can handle myself. I let Bobby shove me back into a wall, keeping myself calm. 

"Where is he? Did you touch him? What have you done to him?"

"He's safe. In my room. I haven't laid a hand on him other than to carry him here and get him comfortable." I put my hands up as if there's proof of this on my palms. "He's safe. He's going to be okay."

"I'm taking him home."

"No. You're not." 

Bobby growls in my face. It's impressive for a human, but doesn't faze me. "He's not yours! I'm not letting you take him from me!"

"I have no intention of taking him from you, sir," I tell him in a calm, even voice. I look him in the eyes. He looks back. "But if you make him choose between us, I'm not going to back down." 

"I didn't want this for him," he breathes, his eyes falling closed as he takes a step back.

"I know."

"John didn't want this for him."

My dad speaks this time. "I know."

Bobby stands between us, his hands working through his emotions as they clench and relax on a loop. He smells like chaos for a minute. Then, he smells like love. Overwhelming love. When he looks at me, his eyes are glazed. "Don’t let him suffer. Please." 

The tight band around my chest loosens. "I won't. Dad talked to me about what to do. I can handle this.”

Bobby grunts to acknowledge my words. Then he pulls out a handgun and shows it to me, the muzzle pointed at the ceiling. The sharp scent of silver fills the air, burning my nostrils and setting my lungs on fire. "You claim him during this, and I'll put this entire magazine into your chest. We clear?"

I nod, both because I fucking believe him and because I'd never do that to Dean anyway. "Yes, sir. Crystal clear."

"And I'm staying here for the duration."

"Okay."

"Okay." Bobby puts his gun away and grunts in the direction of my father. "You still have a taste for good scotch?”

There's a brief pause, and then the tiniest hint of relief in my dad's scent. "Right this way."

  
  


**Dean**

Castiel’s room is warm and welcoming with its 0dark, natural tones. The floor is hardwood. All the walls are gray except for one that’s turned into a foggy black and white forest scene, the dull yellow sunlight pouring through the trees from one corner. It’s a calming place. 

Of course, 90% of what I love about the room is the bed. The giant bed that must be custom made, and built inside the damn room somehow because it’s far too large to have fit in the doorway, is full of incredibly soft blankets and fluffy pillows, all various shades of gray. They feel amazing against my oversensitive skin, and miraculously cool despite how hot I am. And they smell like Castiel. 

The whole room does. 

It’s all just… _Castiel, Castiel, Castiel._

It’s helping, but not enough. It’s only taking the edge off. 

Another cramp rolls through my stomach and I curl in on myself, squeezing my eyes shut and groaning. Anna whines quietly at my pain, reaching over from where she’s perched on the side of the bed to put a gentle hand on my hip through the blankets. 

When I catch my breath, I turn my head to look at her. “Please, he’s taking too long,” I beg. “Tell me what’s happening to me.”

Anna looks over at the door in distress. “I - I don’t think I should…”

“Please. It - it feels like-” like my body is nothing but vapor and chaotic bubbles. Like I’m empty and shivery and unsettled. “ _Please_.”

“It’s okay. Castiel will be here soon. He can help you.”

I frown. “How?”

“Castiel is your-”

“ _Castiel_ is here now. You can go,” Castiel says from the doorway, startling the two of us. I look over to find him standing in the doorway, hands pushed into the pockets of his jeans, his flannel sleeves rolled to his elbows. He leans a shoulder against the doorframe and arches an eyebrow at Anna. 

_God damn, he is gorgeous._

Anna scoffs but gets to her feet. “You’re welcome, asshole.”

He sighs heavily, stopping her when she tries to pass him. He looks her in the eyes and says sincerely, “Thank you for taking care of him.”

“Anytime.” She turns to look at me, giving me a reassuring smile. “You’re gonna be fine, okay?”

I just sort of shrug, because I’m not sure if I believe her. It’d help if someone would tell me what the fuck is happening to me. 

Castiel closes and locks the door. He presses a hand against the wood, taking a few deep breaths, then turns to look at me. His smile is nervous. “How are you feeling?”

“Awful.” I scoot closer to the side of the bed near the door. He walks towards me, stopping when his knees hit the edge of the mattress. I can’t help but look up at him and admit, “Better now.”

His smile is beautiful, and I feel a surge of _relief_ and _safe_ and _mine_. It feels good for a few seconds before I remember what’s happening to me. Before I remember that I’m angry and frustrated. 

“Tell me what’s going on.” It’s meant as an order, but comes out all shaky and desperate. I hate that. 

Castiel sits on the bed and I force myself to stay in place even though every cell of my body wants to hurry over to him and get as close as humanly possible. I’m mad at him. No cuddles until he makes this better. 

“Your body is… _changing_ ,” he begins. 

Panic swells inside my chest until there’s no room for my lungs to fill with air. “Am I becoming a werewolf?”

He smiles softly, shaking his head. “No. There’s a lot - we have a lot to talk about, but you’re going to be pretty fucking out of it soon, and I need us to talk about the most important stuff first. Then, if there’s time, we can discuss details. Otherwise, when you’re better, I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“What - why will I be out of it?”

“Because you - your body is - you’re - _shit_ , okay.” He takes a deep breath, shoving a hand through his messy black curls. Distress soaks the air in the room and I want to comfort him, but I don’t. This is happening because of him. I know that in my bones. This is probably why my uncle wanted me to stay away from him. From all of them. 

“Did you do this to me?” I ask, my tone angry and accusing. 

“I - _fuck_. Yes? But… no.” 

“Great, Castiel. Real helpful.” I shove the blankets off my body and start to get out of the bed. “I’m going home.”

He wraps a large hand around my arm and pulls me towards him. “No, you’re not.”

“I don’t want to be here!”

“You have to be! Just - Christ... I’m fucking this up.” He turns completely so we’re face to face, then pulls me into his lap. I try to fight him, but it only lasts a second. My body thinks we need him, and it feels so fucking good to give into that. It feels like taking a breath after holding it for too long. “Werewolves are real, as you’ve figured out, but there are different kinds of werewolves. There’s the alpha, then the betas, and then the omegas. I’ll explain pack dynamics to you a different time, but we’re going to focus on omegas, because that’s what you are.”

“So, I _am_ turning into a werewolf?”

“No. Alphas and betas are shifters. Omegas aren’t shifters, they never shift, not that I’ve ever heard of at least. They're human… but _not_. They’re… omegas. Omegas are rare, and male omegas like you are - they’re nearly unheard of.” 

I don’t like the sound of that. “Is it… am I a - is that a _bad_ thing?” 

“Not at all. God, no. Omegas are cherished. Treated as precious. They’re loved. And male omegas are - to have a male omega is huge for a pack. Male omegas are revered.” 

“Why?”

“Because male omegas bre-” he stops himself, shaking his head. “Okay, so alphas and betas can have babies, but there are factors involved. In order for a baby to be a shifter, both parents have to be born werewolves - not bitten - and even then, sometimes they still get human children. Like Anna. Anna is plain old human. Not a shifter. Not an omega. It’s not uncommon for that to happen. As I’m sure you can understand, over the centuries, that’s decreased the amount of babies born shifters exceedingly, because bloodlines get wiped out, yada-yada. But, an omega is pretty much guaranteed to have a shifter baby or an omega baby, as long as their gene has been activated and the other parent is a shifter - it doesn’t matter if the shifter is born or bitten. That means that bitten shifters can have shifter babies with omegas, which is huge for the population growth since born wolves are dying out, like I said.” 

He pauses. Considers something. “There is a gene inside of an omega that is dormant. It doesn’t become active until they’re around werewolves. So, if an omega never comes in contact with werewolves, and they have sex with a human, they give birth to human babies. Those babies, though, usually have the omega gene dormant in them as well, so the gene is still carried on through the bloodline even if it takes generations before the gene gets activated again.”

“Gene?” I ask, feeling confused and itchy and kind of like I might throw up. 

“Yes, so omegas - it’s like puberty, kind of. When an omega becomes of age where they could bear children, they present. Until an omega is presented, you can’t tell they’re omega. So, my sister Anna for instance - there was a possibility that she was omega. We knew right away she wasn’t a shifter because shifter kids start shifting around 3 or 4 years old. But until she hit puberty, there was no telling if she would be a human or an omega.”

“And she turned out to be a human?” I ask. 

“Yeah. Anna would have presented by now if she was an omega.”

I try to breathe. Try to process the words. Try not to shout or screech or sob. “Is - is that what - is that - am _I_ doing that? Presenting as - as _omega_?”

“Yes.”

“But… _how_?”

“You have the gene from your dad,” he says quietly. I can’t help but think it sounds like he’s apologizing. “Your dad was an omega here. He must have had the gene from his biological parents. It was activated, and he presented as a teenager. Like you’re about to present.”

I shake my head. “That makes no sense at all. He would have told me. He would have explained. I know my dad, he wouldn’t have just thrown me to the wolves - pun sort of intended - without preparing me. And - and puberty hit me years ago!”

Castiel nods in understanding, his expression sad. “He didn’t tell you because he took you away from here. An omega’s gene is only activated when they’re around werewolves for a long enough period of time. Otherwise, there’s no point in making their body go through a presentation and frequent heats, when there’s no werewolf there to breed them. They-”

“ _Excuse me?”_ I squeak. “Heats? Breed? What the fuck?”

“Just let me finish, okay?” he pleads. I don’t like it, but I nod, staring at the wall behind his left shoulder. “Your dad took you to the city, where a werewolf would be fucking dumb to live. The plan was to never let you come around a wolf pack. To never let your gene get triggered. Then you could have settled down, been a normal human with a normal family. All of that. He was trying to protect you.”

My mind feels heavy as I try to wade through all the information. “So, my uncle brought me here because he wanted my gene to get activated?”

This hurts Castiel. The question twists in his chest, echoing in my own. He takes longer than usual to reply, and when he does, his voice is low and scratchy. “There have been a few omegas throughout history who gave birth to normal human children that did not carry the gene. The rare 1%. Your uncle was hoping you were one of them. I think your dad was hoping too. Bobby hoped you being here wouldn’t change anything for you. He was in denial.”

“Who’s my dad?” I ask, my heart pounding. "Or my other dad, I guess. Or would it be a mom? My dad was gay, I think… though he didn't date much." 

“That’s such a long story - one I don’t even know, actually. My dad said he’ll explain it to you someday. Whoever it was, my dad said he’s not a problem anymore.”

“A problem?”

Castiel shrugs. “Maybe the story will explain that too. And maybe it’ll explain why your uncle fucking hates us, because he used to be my dad’s best friend. I don’t know any of it, to be honest. I just know that your dad got pregnant by a wolf, and you were born omega, and moving here, near a wolf pack, triggered your gene. Now you’re presenting.”

“So - I can have shifter babies now? And - and more omegas? If I fuck a wolf?”

“Basically, yeah.”

I laugh awkwardly. “Well, that’s gonna be a problem.”

Castiel looks at me in confusion, shaking his head. “Why?”

“I’m gay.” I force another laugh, but it’s dry and a little terrified. “I mean - like… you guys aren’t going to force me to fuck girls, right? Because I - no. I won’t do that. That’s not right. You guys can’t-”

“Shhh. No. None of that. You’re - you being gay is fine. You being gay is… well… expected.”

“Expected?” I repeat, once again drowning in confusion. 

“I’ve never heard of a straight male omega.”

“Then how…” I feel my stomach curl as the information begins clicking into place. Presenting. Heats. Breeding. Revered. Precious. Gay. Your body is changing. “Holy fuck!”

“Dean-”

“No!” I scramble away from him, surprised when he lets me go. I take the opportunity and lunge for the door. My hand trembles as I work the lock, but I manage to get the damn door open before he grabs me - or, considering he’s a werewolf, maybe he isn’t planning on grabbing me. Either way, I’m fucking out of here. This isn’t happening. It’s fucking _not_. 

I make it halfway down the hall before I feel his hand close around my wrist, “Dean, please, we have to talk more.”

Trying to shake him off of me, I scream, “No!”

“Dean, please. You’re going to feel sick again soon. There are important things we need to-”

“NO!” I scratch at his hand, trying to claw him off of me. He just holds tighter. “Let me go! I want to go home! I’m not doing this! I’m not gonna be some fucking - some breeding mare for you sick fucks!”

His expression crumbles, and the sadness that saturates the air around us and echoes inside my chest is so thick and heavy I can barely breathe beneath it all. “Dean, that’s not at all what you’d be.”

“Let. Me. Go!”

“What’s going on?” I hear in a thankfully familiar voice. 

Turning the best I can with Castiel still clinging to me, I look at my uncle with tear-filled eyes and beg, “Please help me. I - don’t let them do this to me. I don’t want this. _I don’t want this_.”

Uncle Bobby drops his chin, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t either, kiddo.”

“Then help me!”

“I can’t.” He looks up at me, his eyes red and watery. “God, kid, I wish I could. But now they’re the only ones that can help you. This isn’t reversible. It’s who you are now. It’s in your blood.”

“No. Just - just take me back to the city,” I plead, trying to reason with him. “The gene will just - it’ll go dormant or whatever.”

“Dean,” a man says to my uncle’s left - someone I’ve never met, but who radiates power and for some reason makes me want to get to my knees. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I hear a whispery word. An idea. _Alpha_. “The gene never goes dormant once it’s activated. You’re omega now. You will present over the next few days. You will go into heats every few months, sometimes less often, sometimes more. No matter what you do. It’s important you accept this, because omegas can get very hurt - omegas can _die_ \- if they try to reject this. There are cases of omegas doing exactly what you wanted to do with your uncle. Of running away. Of trying to make it on their own. It never works.”

I shake my head. “My dad did just fine.”

“Your dad had to leave every few months, didn’t he?” The man - the _alpha_ \- says. “Maybe a business trip or a retreat or a guys weekend? He always came home exhausted? A little sad? Maybe extra cuddly, though? Needing to touch you a lot? Needing to remind you all the time how much he loves you?”

My stomach drops. 

Denver. 

He had to go to the company’s headquarters in Denver. Every few months. Every two, to be exact. Always for three or four days. He’d come back looking sad and tired, wanting to watch movies and spend time with me. A lot of the time, he’d let me skip school the day after he got back. We’d binge on junk food and watch movies and sometimes I’d tell him about my crush or my friends or school, and sometimes we’d talk about nothing besides the cute actor in the romantic comedy on our TV.

Dad _always_ went to Denver. Even when he had to miss my birthday once. Even though he cried so hard, felt so guilty, as I promised him we’d just celebrate it when he got back. It was important for dad to go to Denver. He’d lose his job otherwise. 

No. 

No, he would have lost his _life_.

“Where was he going?” I ask, unable to look at any of them. 

“Denver,” my uncle says quietly. “It was still Denver. We have a family cabin up in the mountains. I’d meet him there. I’d help him.”

“Help him with what?”

“He just needed someone to make sure he was taken care of. Without a mate to help him through it, he’d go out of his mind with pain and - and need. He’d forget to drink water. Eat. Omegas have died trying to do it on their own. They convince themselves it’ll be fine, and then they get pulled under and the next thing you know, an autopsy is coming out saying they died by dehydration or was delirious and somehow hurt themselves.”

I dig my nails into the palm of my free hand, trying to keep myself from crying in front of these people. Trying not to show any weakness. Because that’s what I am to them now, right? A weak, helpless thing that should be used for breeding more fucking werewolves for their big, strong pack. 

The hand on my wrist loosens, but Castiel uses the grip to pull me in closer. I try to fight him. Try to hit and push. He just holds me tight against his chest, whispering in my ear, “You’re everything to me. I won’t let anything happen to you. I won’t let anyone touch you.”

I don’t know if I believe him.

My uncle says my dad would go out of his mind. How do I know these wolves won’t take advantage of that? How do I know I won’t wake up three days from now fucking knocked up with some weird magic that apparently makes me able to have fucking werewolf babies even though I have a dick?

“You used to trust me,” Castiel says in defeat. “God, you trusted me so much.”

I don't have to ask him how he knows I don’t anymore. 

He knows. 

He’s always just… known. 

“In the grocery store - you knew I was an omega.” I pull away to look at him. He lets me, his hand loose but present on my wrist just like before. “It’s - that’s why I smelled so good.”

“Yes, and no. I smelled you, and I knew you were an omega, but that’s not all of it. We’re - you and I are - we’re something more. The others couldn’t smell you until today, until the gene was activated, and they say you smell different than what you smell like to me. To them, you smell like every other omega. To me, you - you smell way fucking better. You smell like Christmas.”

_Christmas_. 

And Castiel. When we kissed. He had tasted of hot chocolate. Peppermint. 

_Christmas_.

My favorite time of the year. 

I want to ask what that means, but my muscles are beginning to feel weak and wobbly, and my stomach is cramping again. 

“Uncle Bobby, just take me home. Please. You can help me like dad.” 

The last thing I expect is for Uncle Bobby - the man who hates all of these people, the man who nearly burst when he found out I came anywhere near Castiel - to say, “No, bud. I need you to stay here. I’m staying too. Not leavin’ until you’re okay again. But you should be here. With Castiel.”

I can’t help that my jaw drops. “Seriously?”

“He’s your mate.” He says it so simply. So matter-of-factly. Like it’s been decided. Has it? And if it has, what does that mean? What does it entail? Does that mean Castiel is going to fuck me during these next three days? Is Castiel going to knock me up?

Lust pushes away the cramps in my stomach, pooling warm and tingly in my groin. I have to swallow a moan, my cheeks and neck feeling hot in shame. 

Why the fuck does the thought of Castiel getting me pregnant make me want to ride him until I pass out right now?

“Shhh,” Castiel whispers, his big hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. And they are. Soothing, I mean. They’re so fucking soothing. “Mates make presenting and heats so much easier. They make them bearable. Please, Dean. Please let me help you. I can’t just stand by and watch you be in pain.”

“I’m a virgin!” I blurt out, not caring that there are others standing around - including my fucking uncle. 

Castiel’s expression darkens, his eyes narrowing. It’s just for a second. Then it smoothes out into a careful understanding. “I’m not going to fuck you, Dean. Not even if you beg. Which… you will.”

“That’s my cue,” Uncle Bobby announces in a loud, booming voice. “I’ll be - elsewhere. Dean, bud, you’re going to be just fine. Trust me, okay?”

I nod, even though I’m not sure I can trust him anymore. He lied too. He let me come here, knowing there was a chance this would happen to me. 

“Castiel,” the man - _alpha, alpha, alpha_ \- says quietly, beckoning Castiel forward. 

For a moment, Castiel stays still, his hand tightening on my wrist. But then he lets go and moves forward. “Yeah, dad?”

Dad. 

Castiel’s dad is the alpha. 

Jesus, my life has become gay Twilight with erotica. 

At least now it makes sense why I was always Team Jacob. 

And why dad was not. 

Castiel’s dad pulls him in, their foreheads pressing together. He speaks but I can’t hear them. Whatever he’s saying makes Castiel calm down, though. It makes him feel steady. I find myself feeling the same, which I both hate and am thankful for. 

When Castiel comes back to me, he takes my hand in his. I let him. “We have to talk about a few more things, and soon. I can feel you slipping.”

Can he?

Can I?

He brings me into the bedroom and locks the door again. Then, he answers my unspoken question, “I can tell, yes. And when you get used to your heats, you’ll be able to tell too.”

“How?”

“This,” he whispers, placing his big hand over my lower stomach. I moan without meaning to. “Your body wants me. I could smell your need in the hall. You liked when you thought about me fucking you. When you thought about me breeding you.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head. “You could hear that?” 

“No, but I could smell the lust pouring off your body. The steady _need, need, need_.” He makes a growly sound before removing his hand and taking a step back. When I get the courage to open my eyes and look at him, I’m surprised to find he’s as far away from me as possible. “I need to talk to you before you slip under. I need your consent.”

A shudder moves through my body, making me feel sick again, the lust already a distant memory. “You said you wouldn’t fuck me.”

“I won’t. I refuse to. But what no one is saying to you is that ‘out of your mind’ that you’re going to get - that’s an ‘out of your mind with the need to be fucked and claimed’ thing. As your mate - or… well, as someone with the _potential_ to be your mate if you one day, ya know… _want_ that - just being near me, smelling me, being touched by me, will take the edge off for you. But the more I can give you sexually, the better you’ll feel. I don’t want to fuck you yet. But there’s plenty I can still do to make you feel good during this. To make this a little less miserable.” 

_Out of your mind with the need to be fucked and claimed._

_As your mate._

_If you one day, ya know…_ want _that._

_I don’t want to fuck you yet._

_Yet._

_Yet._

_Yet_.

“Okay,” I whisper, feeling a little dizzy. 

“Okay?”

“Whatever you want.” I feel myself sway on my feet, so I put a hand out against the wall, steadying myself. “Whatever you wanna do to me.”

He sighs heavily, tugging at his hair. “Shit.”

“What?”

“You’re under. I let you go under before we got to this part. This talk.”

“‘M not under,” I argue, wondering why the fuck he isn’t touching me yet. 

Castiel takes a deep breath, shivering as he smells what I’m sure is a whole lot of me. I’m about to ask if I smell different when I’m in heat when he asks, “Can I fuck you?”

I flinch back. “No! What the fuck? You promised you wouldn’t-”

He cuts me off quickly. “Good - that’s good. Okay. You’re not fully under. Concentrate on me, Dean. Focus. Can I touch your asshole? Can I play with it? Put toys in it?”

That sounds delightful. 

I tell him so. 

He laughs softly and agrees. “Can I touch your cock? Make you come?”

“Fucking yes. Please.” I nod quickly, wanting nothing more. “Yes.”

“Okay. Good.” He licks his lips, eyes slowly taking in my body. “That’s good. What about me? I - my - you touching me, tasting me… it’ll help you feel better, but you don’t have to.”

I feel my cheeks go bright red. “Like… a blowjob, and stuff?” 

“Yeah.”

“I - yes. That. I wanna do that. Now?” I ask hopefully, not caring that there’s a little squeak in my voice. 

"Can I fuck you? Breed you?"

Anger spikes through me. "No!"

Smiling, Castiel walks forward until he’s right in front of me. His hand cups my face and I can’t help but sigh in relief and happiness and a little bit of ecstasy. “Do you trust me again?”

I think about it, forcing myself to focus on the question instead of the burning need in my ass as it begins to ache from its emptiness and neglect. 

“I trust you,” I admit a little breathlessly, looking him in the eyes. “To keep me safe, I trust you. But - but you hurt me. Keeping this from me. You really hurt me, Castiel.”

He nods in acceptance. “I know. But I will keep you safe, and when this is all over, I’m going to make the rest of that up to you. I promise.”

It’s a nice promise. The kind you can wrap yourself up in. The kind that makes everything feel like it’s truly going to be alright. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” He grins, his hand sliding down on my face so his thumb can brush along my bottom lip. His eyes flash to a brighter blue and a growl catches in the bottom of his throat. “Let’s get started, then.”

  
  
  
  
  
**Castiel**

Dean stands before me with heavy-lidded eyes, his tongue darting out to slick his lips. The hair that curls around his ears and falls on his forehead is already sweaty. His breaths come in shivery and labored. 

I take a step forward and wrap my hand around the back of his head, pulling him into a gentle kiss. Dean allows this for all of a second before he’s smashing up against me, nails digging into my back through my flannel, his hard cock grinding against my leg. He smells like hot, gooey cinnamon buns fresh from the oven. He tastes like the sugary glaze on top. 

“Please,” he whimpers against my lips. “ _Please_.”

“What? What do you need?” 

“I - I don’t-” he pulls away, looking up at me with wide eyes. The green of his irises is the lightest I’ve seen - almost golden - and his pupils are fucking blown. “ _Please_.”

Nodding in understanding, I dip my hands beneath the hem of his shirt and press my fingertips to his sweaty skin. He moans like I’m touching his damn cock instead of his soft belly. 

“Let’s get you naked,” I tell him, letting my wolf deepen my voice. Dean shudders and nods. 

I push the fabric of his shirt up and over his head, tossing it off to the side. Then I start to work on his jeans. His tight briefs are wet in the front from his precum. When I run my fingertips along the cups of his ass, I feel that he’s still dry back there. No slick production yet. 

Hopefully, he’s too out of his mind already when he starts getting wet because I have a feeling he won’t be too happy about that situation. 

God, but I bet it’s going to taste so fucking good. I can’t wait to-

“Caaaaaaaas,” he whines, his hips undulating. 

I can’t help but smirk at him as I stay squatting with my face just inches from his hard cock poking out at me through his underwear. His cheeks, neck, and chest are flushed red, but this time it’s not out of embarrassment. There’s not a trace of that emotion here. This is Dean hot with arousal. 

_Fucking beautiful._

“Need somethin’?” I tease. 

“I don’t know.” His legs begin to tremble and I decide to take pity on him. The poor thing has been through enough today. I probably shouldn’t push him too hard. At least not right now. Not during a heat frenzy. 

Later. 

Later, I’ll drive him wild with need.

Later, I’ll make him beg. 

Now, I’ll take care of him. 

Hooking my thumbs in his underwear, I begin to push them down until they’re around his ankles. He clings to my shoulders to steady himself as he steps out of them. Then I have a naked, dripping cock in front of me, and it’d be a fucking shame to waste it. 

I lean forward, licking him from root to tip in one long deliberate swipe before swirling my tongue along his leaking head to collect the precum there. My taste buds burst with his flavor and I groan. It’s salty and sweet, like - like fucking chocolate covered pretzels. 

I’m so blissed out on his taste that I don’t even notice that he’s digging his nails into my shoulders hard enough to make me bleed. It isn’t until he pulls his hands away and streaks the warm blood across my already healing skin that I realize it. 

The two of us panting, I pick him up and easily carry him to my bed, laying him out across it. His eyes never leave mine as I strip down to just my boxer briefs. I hold his gaze for a few more seconds. Then, I start to examine every inch of his gorgeous body, my hands twitching with the need to touch. 

Knowing my self-control can only be stretched so far during this, I pick and choose my battles and crawl over him to begin exploring with my hands. And lips. And tongue. And teeth. 

Lots of teeth. 

God, he writhes and whines and begs so beautifully when I use my teeth.

I have Dean downsized to nothing but a babbling, incoherent mess by the time I’ve kissed his lips swollen, nipped his earlobes red, and dotted his throat and collarbone with dark marks. Looking up through my eyelashes to watch his expression, I lower my mouth to his left nipple and carefully take it into my mouth. His reaction is better than I expected, his back bowing, his mouth forming a pretty pink O, his cock jumping, and - _fuck_ \- and slick gushing out of his ass to soak my sheets. 

His green eyes go wide with panic as he tries sitting up. I wrap one of my large hands around his throat and pin him to the mattress, flashing my eyes at him. “Stay.”

He whimpers and nods, but his hips wiggle and his cheeks flood red in embarrassment. “I think I might have… like - I think-”

“You didn’t piss yourself.” I lick my lips, looking down at the puddle of liquid fucking gold between his thighs. I’ve heard so many stories about slick. Werewolves talk about it like it’s crack. “This is normal. One of your body’s changes. It’s a _good_ thing. It means you're healthy.”

Anxiety swells around our thread until I can barely smell Dean beneath it. I don’t like that. Not at all. 

“Look. Watch.” I hook his knees with my arms and push him back, then settle myself so I’m at eye-level with his genitals. I lick a long stripe up his cock, lap at the head, then move down to suck on his balls. He writhes below me but I use my strength to keep him in place, forcing him to just accept the pleasure. 

When my tongue works its way to his taint, I finally get my first taste of it. 

And holy fucking shit fucking christ - the stories were wrong. They oversimplified. This is… there isn’t a fucking word. It’s like I was sick - on my fucking death bed - and suddenly I’m licking up a miracle cure that brings my body back to life. I’m overflowing with it all. His scent. His taste. His noises. 

The moment I lick around his leaking hole, rimming him slowly, Dean’s body buckles and he shouts. I look up just in time to watch him come all over himself. A rush of slick coats my tongue. 

His arousal and need doesn’t lessen, though. 

It spikes. Because he’s not getting what he really needs, and his body was just reminded of it. Dean came, but he wasn’t given any cum in return. He’s emptied even worse now. 

Instinct taking over him, Dean starts to move his hips in a desperate attempt to get himself full of something. Anything. I start sliding a finger into him before he has to try and ask, and it makes him shiver and sigh in relief, but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough. He’s already whining again by the time I’m sunk down to the second knuckle, his legs falling to the sides as he purrs. I work him slowly, knowing he must be oversensitive from just having come. When my finger find his glans, I'm careful to work around them, just teasing the edges. He wiggles and squirms and thrusts, incoherent babbles pouring out of his mouth. Not that I need him to speak. Our thread says plenty as he sends pulse after pulse of _need need need_ and _more more more_ and _please please please._

"Cas," he slurs when I push in a second finger. Tears are falling down his pretty flushed cheeks as more pool in his eyes. "Please."

"I've got you, little omega." I slide a third finger in, taking advantage of his blissed out moment as I focus everything onto his glans. He releases a sound that's caught between a scream and a sob. It echoes around the room and makes my wolf whine. 

_We can fix this_ my wolf grumbles, tail between his legs. _Knot him. He'll feel so much better._

I ignore my wolf, which is much easier than I had anticipated it would be, and focus on my sweet boy. He came again but as I gently stroke his glans, more spurts out of him. 

Slick runs out of him in a steady trickle when I pull my fingers out. He still _needs_. I can feel it between us, his desperation taking away from the relief I've managed to give him. 

Shoving my sweatpants down to my thighs, I fist my cock with a hand coated in his slick and start jacking myself in quick, steady strokes. His whines grow as my orgasm barrels forward and I watch through hooded eyes as he shimmies down the bed and opens his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out. Our thread trembles with _please please please._

I can't fucking deny him, even if I wanted to. I pump my cock once more and tilt forward to get my cum into his mouth. He moans and closes his mouth to swallow, too blissed out to worry about the rest of it. I move back and coat his stomach with the remainder of my release, my body going warm and relaxed as not only my need but his need as well fades. 

Finally - fucking finally - my boy releases a deep sigh, and our thread softens with relief. His breathing slows and steadies, his eyes fluttering closed. He sniffles when I reach up to his stomach where his three rounds of cum are now mixed with my own spend. I gently rub the warm substance into his skin, smiling when it makes him shudder and coo. He’ll be disgusted when this is over. I can already see his bright red face all scrunched up as he asks, “You rubbed cum into me?!? Like lotion!?!” It doesn’t matter, though, because this is biology. He needs my cum. If he can’t have it in his hole, this and his mouth are the next best thing. 

I could do it for hours. 

Once he’s soaked in the two of us, his skin shiny and warm, my wolf practically purring, I press a kiss to his temple and ask, “You still awake, sweetheart?”

Nothing. 

Chuckling softly, I sneak out of the bed and tug on a fresh pair of sweatpants so I can go get some things for him. This happened far too fast. Supplies would be good. At least a few things. 

First stop, Jack. 

Except, the second I enter the hallway with Jack’s bedroom, Jack is out of his room and turning to look at me, his head shaking no and a hand going up. His chest heaves with the force of his breaths. “What?” he growls, taking a few steps back just to add more space between us. 

I tilt my head in confusion. “I was hoping you’d do a quick run for me.”

“Sure.” His eyes scan me. Then he backs up some more. “Okay. Well, sure. Yeah. Whatcha need?”

“I - never mind.”

“No, dude, it’s fine. It’s cool. You just stay… way the fuck over there, and I’ll stay over here, and you can tell me what you need.” 

I huff, throwing a hand up in exasperation. Then I realize what the problem is. I’m probably fucking soaked in omega. Not just omega - omega in _heat_. Dean isn’t the only one soaked in the two of us. So am I.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Fuck. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Just - I’m really sorry, Castiel. I’m not a threat, okay? I fucking promise. I’m not after him. But he’s - you smell - you know?”

“I know. I totally know.” I put my hands up and back away some more. “I’ll ask Anna to help.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, I’m sending her for sex toys. I can’t wait to see her face when I ask that.”

Jack bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “Shit. No. Don’t do that to her. I’ll do it. I’ll just send her with the bag up to your room, okay?”

Relief loosens my chest. “Yes. That’d be perfect, man.”

He winks at me. “Just practicing for when I’m your beta, alpha jr.” 

“You’ll be great, man.” I stick my hands in my sweatpants pockets, looking over my shoulder. “I need food and water for him, but I don’t want to bother everyone else too.”

“You won’t. Your dad’s mated. Gabe's mated. The rest are females. Anna is human. You’re fine. It’s just me.” He shrugs, a wave of guilt coming off of him and vibrating through our thread. “Castiel, I’m-”

“Don’t.” I wave a hand at him, shaking my head. “Don’t. This changes nothing. I’m not upset. I’m not even threatened, man. I’m good. I promise. We’re good.”

His whole body shudders in relief. “Fuck, okay. Good. Alright. Sex toys. I’m on it.”

“Smaller side,” I say with a smirk. “He’s a virgin.”

“Oh lord.” He flips me off and turns towards his room, chuckling as he mumbles under his breath, “Lucky fucking bastard.”

I take the extra two minutes to make it back to my room and check on Dean, making sure he’s still peacefully asleep. Then I go downstairs to stockpile the rest of what I need. I’m already making a list in my head on how to fix up my room for our next heat. We’ll need a mini-fridge. A metal bucket for ice. Way more sets of sheets and blankets, because as it is I’m going to be doing laundry on a fucking loop to keep things fresh for my boy during this. 

My dad and Bobby are sitting at the kitchen island when I enter it, both hunched over their drinks, speaking in low voices. I tune their words out even though I’d easily be able to hear them. They stop talking anyway, their focus shifting to me. I can feel their eyes tracking my every move as I collect things. 

“Is he okay?” Bobby asks in an angry voice that does nothing to cover his fear and sadness. 

“Perfectly fine, sir.” I pause, turning to face Bobby and give him my full attention. “He’s napping right now.”

“Good.” Bobby clears his throat and ducks his head, frowning at his drink. “Good.”

Probably to save Bobby the awkwardness, my dad speaks to me through our thread. _Need anything? All good?_

I send back a happy and secure _good, good, good_ and turn to finish collecting my things. 

Geared with some flavored electrolyte water, dad’s homemade trail mix, and a plastic container of mixed fruit, I nod towards the two men as a goodbye and head back upstairs. Dean is awake when I get into the room, rubbing a fist against his eye as I place everything on the side table.

“Hey you.” I give him a soft smile, grabbing the light blue electrolyte water and walking over to him. With one knee on the edge of the bed, I help him sit up against some pillows and hand him the drink. “I’ll be right back, but drink some of that for me, okay?”

He nods meekly, looking at me in confusion. 

“Do you need anything?” I ask, not liking that expression at all. 

He shakes his head and looks down at the bottle in his hands. They’re trembling. 

_Shit_. 

I search our thread, because if he’s non-verbal then he’s certainly not going to tell me what the problem is. Our thread is saturated in anxiety and… what is that? That’s… that’s - _loneliness_. He’s _lonely_. 

The damp washcloth I had planned to get for him can wait. 

I grab the sandwich bag of trail mix and crawl onto the bed until I’m right beside him, my back against the headboard. I scoop him up and place him in my lap so he’s straddling me. A wave of relief washes over him. It’s like a cool drink of water for me. 

It’s like I can fucking breathe again. 

Cupping the back of Dean’s head, I guide his face to my claiming spot and run the other hand along his spine. He practically purrs as he presses harder against me. “Thought you left.”

“Oh, sweetheart, no. Not at all.” I kiss along his jaw and down his neck, nuzzling his claiming spot. “I just went to get you some snacks and drinks. I need to take care of you, remember?” 

“Yeah.” His hands tighten on me, his thighs squeezing my hips. “I feel a little better now.”

“Good. Can you eat for me while that lasts? You’ll have another spike soon.” 

He slumps in my arms, but nods and accepts the bag of trail mix I hand him. He fumbles with the zip lock for a moment before huffing in frustration and giving me big green puppy dog eyes that I immediately realize are going to be the death of me. I open the bag for him and take out a peanut. Without a word, Dean parts his pretty pink lips for me to feed him. My wolf and I sigh in unison, flooding with happiness and relief as we take care of our omega. 

I never thought I'd be so lucky. 

**Dean**

I throw another pillow across the room at Castiel as I scream, "I hate you!" He doesn't even flinch when it hits his chest, which pisses me off. I grab a notebook off his desk next. 

"Dean-" he warns in his stupid deep voice, putting a hand up.

"Fuck you!" I send the notebook across the room like a frisby, already reaching for a textbook next. "I hate you! I hate you!"

He bats the notebook away like a fly and catches the textbook easily in one hand. "Sweetheart-"

"Noooo." I turn away from him, my fury suddenly dissolving into an intense grief. Wrapping my arms around myself doesn't help so I go to the floor and curl up into a tight ball. "You don't want me!" 

I realize I'm sobbing. I also realize I'm sitting in a puddle of my own slick. I don't care about either. Castiel is supposed to be my mate and he doesn't want me. Nothing matters besides that. 

"Oh, Dean, sweetheart. Stop. You know that's not true." 

"I hate you!" I half-scream, half-sob when I feel his hand on my shoulder. 

The bedroom door swings open hard enough to slam back against the wall. Uncle Bobby is standing with Castiel's dad - _alpha, alpha, alpha_ \- behind him. They both look upset and I realize they're upset at me. Everyone is mad at me. Everyone hates me. 

I bury my face in my hands and sob harder. 

"What the fuck is going on?" Uncle Bobby barks. I flinch at his tone and curl in harder on myself. 

"Calm down," Castiel says in a steady, even tone that dips a little in a way that makes me crave to obey him even if it's not me he's talking to. "He's just emotional. Everything is fine."

"Fuck off you little prick." 

Uncle Bobby comes forward but Castiel snaps a hand out and stops him. A low, dangerous rumble fills the room as Castiel’s eyes flash a neon blue. His voice is more growl than anything as he says to Uncle Bobby, "Do not go near my omega." 

The threat underlying the words is loud and clear, and Uncle Bobby seems to take it seriously because he steps back. He doesn't give up, though. "Dean, why are you upset bud? What's wrong?"

"He's just-" 

"He doesn't want me!" I sob, cutting Castiel off. Maybe the alpha can fix this. Maybe he can tell me how to be a better omega for Castiel. I turn to face him, needing him to help. "I dunno what I'm doin' wrong."

Uncle Bobby frowns, looking confused, but the alpha just nods in a sad understanding. I'm not even embarrassed when he clarifies, "Castiel won't breed you."

"Yes!" I clumsily wipe off my face. "He doesn't want me!"

"Oh, trust me omega, my son wants you. He doesn't have your consent."

"Yes he does!" I whine. "I want him! I want him to knot me!" 

I start moving on my hands and knees, ready to put my naked ass in the air to show how much I want this, how much I _need_ this, but a firm hand grabs the back of my neck and squeezes. I yelp in surprise as my body jerks, my muscles all tensing at once. Then it's like everything is poured out of me, my body relaxing, my mind floating away. I close my eyes and sigh in relief. 

Their voices are muted and far away. I hear something about my heat and peaking soon. I hear the alpha's voice rumbling reassurances to Castiel. I hear Castiel - _mate mate mate_ \- promise I'm going to be okay. Other things are said. The door closes, then opens, then closes again. I tune it all out and focus on the steady pressure of fingers against my nape. When they leave my skin, I whimper and try to chase them. 

"Shhh. I've got you, sweetheart," Castiel coos as he scoops me up in his big, strong arms and carries me to the bed that he's been calling our nest. I like that. I like that it's _ours_. His hand cups the back of my head and I already know where my face is headed before he finishes guiding me, my body relaxing again as my nose brushes that patch of skin he keeps pressing me against that calms me for some reason. It's not as good as hard fingers on my neck, and it's definitely not as good as his knot would be, but it's enough for me to breathe and give in, my eyes fluttering closed as he tickles shapes on my bare back. 

"That's it. That's a good boy. I've got you, sweetheart," he says over and over again, using that tone of voice that leaves no room for doubt or worry. "I've got you, little omega. I've got you." 

  
  


**Castiel**

I fall asleep to Dean's soft, angry grumbled "I hate you"s as he clings tight to me and nuzzles his nose against my mating bond. 

I wake up to something hot and wet dripping down the sides of my cock and gasped, desperate, "I love you"s. 

My eyes snap open just as Dean is rising on his knees and trying to get his trembling to calm enough for him to sink down onto me. His hole flutters around the very tip of my cock and I groan, throwing my head back in despair as I grab his slim hips tight and hold him hovering above me in the air. It takes every ounce of self-control to keep him off of me. He whines and begs, but the poor boy is no match for my strength as he wriggles and humps the air, trying to get out of my grasp and down on my cock. 

"Pleeeaassse, mate," he begs, slick still dripping from his hole all over my cock and balls. My wolf is in absolute agony as I hold him back. My muscles begin jerking with the exertion necessary to keep myself under control. It'd be so easy. So fucking easy. I'd just slam him right down on my cock. The pretty little omega probably wouldn't even feel the pain of the brutal thrust, too out of his mind with need and desperation. And God, it'd feel So. Fucking. Good. All that tight, warm heat clinging to my cock. Milking it. 

I've never had sex before. I never could. What human wouldn't freak out when I pop a fucking knot? Not exactly normal human cock behavior.

I'd give anything… 

But that can't happen. It's my job to take care of Dean. To protect him, even from myself. Even from himself. He’s my omega. At least for this heat, until he's better, he's my omega. My responsibility. 

I will not rape him. 

_We will not rape him,_ I growl at my wolf. He harrumphs but doesn't argue. 

Dean's still slurring desperate pleas, his hole dripping, his body trembling, his eyes filling with tears. His pupils are almost blown wide enough to cover any green of his irises. His bottom lip is bleeding from how hard he's been biting it. 

"Come here, sweetheart," I coo, turning us easily so he's beneath me. He immediately lifts his legs and wraps them around my waist, rubbing his leaking hole against my crotch. I breathe through the new rush of arousal before making a mental note to tug some sweatpants on next time I get up. 

"Maaaaaattee," Dean whines.

I duck down and press my lips against the freckled triangle of skin, sliding my hand between his ass cheeks at the same time. My fingers are soaked in slick without effort. Two of them slide easily inside his tight channel. He arches his back and presses his throat harder against my lips. I crook my fingers in the spot I've memorized by now and nibble gently on his sensitive mating spot. Dean shouts, his cock spurting the moment my fingertips make contact with his glans for the first time. Slick gushes out of him as he humps down on my fingers and begs me for more. 

"Okay, sweetheart. Just give me a minute. One minute. Shhh." I keep my fingers buried inside of him as I lean over and fumble around the floor with my free hand. I pick up the first thing I manage to get a grip on. It's the smaller of the two fantasy werewolf dildos that Jack bought from the kinky sex shop when he drove into the city earlier. 

We used to joke about the dildos with the fake knots, knowing if anyone who used them actually met a werewolf they'd probably shit themselves, not present their ass for knotting. Now, though, I'm incredibly thankful for the kinky fuckers who like playing pretend. This is the next best thing to my own cock when it comes to helping my little omega find relief. 

I rip open the box with my free hand and my teeth until I have the dildo free. Dean moans when he sees it and cants his hips in a wordless request. I don't tease him by taking it slow, knowing he's plenty ready for a dildo. Once I've dragged it up and down his crack to coat it in slick, I press the tip of the toy against his fluttering hole and gently push upwards. He takes it all the way until the start of the knot, his rim resisting once the dildo gets too big. 

Trying to ignore my painfully hard cock, I focus on Dean's small one and suck the hard length into my mouth. As his pleasure overwhelms him from both my mouth and the toy, his hole starts opening wider, just begging me to shove the knot in. This is when I tease. Just because I've never knotted an omega doesn't mean I haven't been taught properly. The longer I draw this out and make my omega wait for the knot, the more sated my omega will be once they're knotted. 

I push and pull and twist the dildo as I suck two more orgasms from the sweet omega's cock. Finally, once he's sobbing hard enough to make his whole body shudder, I pull my mouth off his cock and shove the knot inside his hole. He screams out a word that's definitely not English and shoots a watery, pathetic load out of his cock as his body milks the fake knot. A soft whine escapes his lips as his body realizes he's not being pumped full of my spunk, so I do the next best thing by leaning over and pressing my cock to his lips. He opens immediately, panting and nodding his head as his tongue darts out. I don't even give him a chance to suck. All it takes is my hand closing around my cock as I tilt it further into his mouth before I'm spilling my seed onto his tongue and down his throat. 

The reaction is so immediate that I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it myself. The moment he's swallowed the last drop, Dean's eyes fall closed and his body goes limp. A sleepy smile stretches his cum-coated lips as he falls straight into a peaceful sleep. 

"Jesus." I sit back and take him in now that I finally have a moment to just appreciate him. He's so fucking beautiful. And strong. So amazingly strong. I find myself chuckling at the memory of us fighting earlier. I can't believe he threw shit at me! Omegas are usually so docile by nature, especially during heat. My dad told me when he came in that John was the same. A feisty little brat when he didn't get his way. I had felt guilty as I watched my dad say this. The sadness and longing in his eyes was something I had never seen in him before. He clearly had buried whatever happened with John Winchester all those years ago. 

Whatever happened won't happen with me and Dean. I refuse to allow it. Nothing will take this omega from me. Nothing but Dean himself, if he doesn't want to be with me when his heat is over and his mind is cleared. But if Dean chooses me? If he becomes mine? If he accepts the reality of being true mates? Then I will not lose him. I'll die first. 

I refuse to be my father years from now, talking to my own son about the fond memory of Dean. It's great that my dad found my mom. They're a very happy couple, and they built a great family - a great pack - but that won't be me. 

It just… it _won't_ be. 

I clean Dean up and carefully remove the knot from his hole before lying down beside him, this time with sweatpants on. I grin as he immediately turns towards me in his sleep, wrapping around me like a koala. He releases a happy little sigh and my decision solidifies. 

He's not going anywhere.


	8. Chapter 8

**Dean**

I spend 4 days holed up in Castiel's room before I finally wake up feeling like myself again. My muscles ache and I'm thirsty, but there's no burning need in my stomach, no blinding desperation. I'm not hot or shivery. I'm not sweaty or slick. My asshole is perfectly happy with being empty and left alone. 

It's amazing. 

"Hey you," Castiel whispers, making me startle. He chuckles fondly at my reaction. The sound catches and he pauses for a moment before releasing a sigh of relief. "You feel better."

It's not a question. He knows. 

He's always just _known_.

I smile, squinting through the darkness at where he's lying beside me. "What time is it?"

He reaches over and looks at something bright - probably his phone. 

"Just after midnight," he answers as he tosses the device to the floor. 

"Oh." I run a hand down my stomach and flinch. "I feel all gross."

"You could take a bath or a shower, if you'd like."

"I don't want to wake everyone up."

He smiles, white teeth flashing in the moonlit room. "I have my own bathroom, sweetheart. You've been using it for days now."

Feeling my cheeks heat, I act like he didn't add the last part. "I think I'll take a bath then." 

"Let me draw it up for us. I'll get us some cold water as it runs." 

"Oh…" I fidget, feeling guilty. He's done so much for me over the past few days. So fucking much. But… "Do you mind if I just take it by myself?"

His long pause is like a knife twisting in my gut. It's made even worse by his forced happy, nonchalant reply. "Of course. Totally fine. I'll still get it ready for you."

"I'm sorry," I whisper, hating myself. "I just - I need a minute…"

"Dean, it's okay. I promise. I'm just glad you haven't run out of here screaming yet. Part of me worried you'd come back to yourself, say fuck this, and head out the door without a look back."

My chest tightens at the mere thought. "Why would I do that?"

He shrugs, looking away from me as if the darkness isn't enough cover. Instead of answering my question, he gets off the bed and crosses the room. I watch as he disappears into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. 

Should I want to run? Is it weird that I don't? Does it make me weak or pathetic to just accept this as my life now? Should I be totally freaking the fuck out? Am I just too damn tired to care? 

That last one for sure. At least right now. Just those questions swirling in my mind is too overwhelming. My heat might be over but I still feel wrung out. I shove back any lingering thoughts and force my mind to relax for a little while longer. I can worry tomorrow. Knowing my anxious self, I'm sure I won't have much of a problem with it at all. 

Once Castiel returns, I slide past him and into the bathroom with a whispered thank you. The soft click of the bathroom door closing echoes like a gun shot, suddenly sending a wave of guilt and loneliness through me. 

Or is that Castiel? Is that what he's feeling?

I try to figure it out. To separate it. Before, we were distanced enough for it to be clear. Everything I felt was sharp and overwhelming. Everything he felt was dull and muted. Now it's all just a big jumble. 

Whichever one of us is feeling guilty and lonely doesn't matter, because my stomach growls and my mouth is dry and my muscles are sore, and those are things I can fix. Especially since Castiel has set a glass of ice water and a bowl of trailmix on the ledge of his big jacuzzi tub for me. Since the bath is still slowly filling, I sit on the ledge and have a little snack. 

By the time I turn the water off, I'm realizing why Castiel thought I'd run. The urge is hooking itself into my skin, sinking in as easily as I sink into the hot bubble bath. This isn't what I want. Werewolves and alphas and mates. Omegas. Breeding. Babies. 

They said I can't reverse this now, that I'll always have heats, but that doesn't mean I have to stay here. Dad didn't. And I bet Uncle Bobby would help me like he helped dad. I could survive without ever having to worry about all this. No weird male pregnancies. No full moons. No intense thread that’s starting to make me feel like I'm losing myself, like he's swallowing me up until I'm nothing but a reflection. 

But I like Castiel. And his family. I like it here. This place already feels so much like home. The land calms me. The way I felt in that clearing… it was like I had finally found peace. 

And the wolf… _Castiel_. I had liked that too. I could see myself in that clearing on a full moon, running around with him like a giant puppy, cuddling with him amongst the wildflowers when he needs to take a break. I think I could be happy here, if I did stay. 

Would I be able to stay and never have babies? Is that an option? Would Castiel still want to be my mate? Would he be mad? Would his dad be mad? Omegas are precious because of what they can give birth to. They're precious because they're basically all that's keeping the werewolf race going. Me staying here but refusing to have babies sort of defeats that, doesn't it? 

Is that why my dad left?

Did they make him? Did he have me and decide he didn't want to do this anymore?

What if it is my decision? What if Castiel told me he would love and accept me no matter what? Do I want kids? Do I want to be… _pregnant_? Pregnant with adorable little humans that turn into tiny wolves with their daddy's blue eyes? 

Or maybe their papa's green eyes. I think that's what I'd want. I think I'd want to be papa. Castiel could be their daddy. I like the idea of saying things like "let's go find your daddy" or "ask your daddy if you're allowed." 

God, how the fuck am I supposed to know what I want? I haven't even graduated high school yet! 

At some point, I realize the water is cold and I'm shivering. I climb out of the bath and wrap a towel around myself. 

There's one thing I know. I can't make the decision tonight, here, now. I need to get space to think. To breathe. To be me. 

When I walk out of the bathroom, Castiel is already by the bedroom door across the room that leads to the hall. He's fully dressed and giving me a sad smile. "Your outfit from the first day is clean. I set it on the bed for you. I'll go track Bobby down and let him know you're ready to go home."

Instinct tells me to stop him. To stay here. To talk things out. To crawl into bed and let him hold me. 

Instinct also made me want to get knotted and bred like an animal. Instinct wants me pregnant. Instinct wants me to submit to him. To submit to the alpha. 

Fuck instinct.

Castiel nods to himself as if he followed my line of thinking. Maybe he did. 

"Just go down these stairs here and wait by the door. He'll be there in a minute." Castiel sighs before forcing a smile that makes our thread ache terribly. "I'll see you at school."

Not trusting my voice, I just nod. He leaves and I get dressed. Bobby and I reach the stairs almost at the same time. He wraps an arm around me and says, "Let's go home kiddo."

I want to cry, but I clamp down on my bottom lip to hold it in. He asks if I'm hungry or thirsty when we get home. I shake my head. He asks if I want to talk and I shake my head again. I scurry off to my room, climb under my blankets, press my face against my pillow, and let the reality of my life crash into me. 

Then I'm drowning. 

  
  
  


**Castiel**

Drowning. Dean's drowning. _We're_ drowning. It's been over an hour since I shifted to come be near him. I've been curled up on the ground beneath his bedroom window in my wolf form, trying to hold still and be quiet so I don't earn myself a silver bullet. 

In my defense, I had truly planned on giving him space. But our thread had been trembling within minutes of him leaving, quickly turning violent with grief, and then he was drowning - we were drowning - and I had to go. I just… _had_ to. 

He seems to be slowing down. It could be the exhaustion, or my presence subconsciously helping him. Either way, I'm relieved. The poor boy has been through so much. He deserves to just rest. There's plenty of time for him to figure things out. Plenty. There's no reason for him to tear himself apart tonight trying to solve everything at once. 

I wish I could tell him that, but it's not my place. My place was to get him through his heat safely. I did that. Now he has his mind back, his consent back, and until he invites me, I'm not welcome. 

Just minutes after Dean finally cries himself to sleep, leaves crunch around the corner of the house. I tense up, trying to listen and smell to see if it's a threat or just some dumb animal. In a low, grumbly whisper, I hear Bobby say, "Just me. Don't worry. Didn't even bring my gun." 

I relax back onto the ground, staying in my wolf form as I watch him come around the corner and approach me. He sits down in the grass to my left and sighs. 

"I'm not much of a talker," he tells me. "So you stay a wolf so I don't have to deal with that shit, ya hear?"

Amused, I chuff at him and press my nose against his leg to show him I understand. He nudges me away and grumbles about being nothing but an oversized mutt. 

The two of us sit like this for a very long time, the sound of crickets and Dean's soft breathing the only thing in the air. It isn't until the sun is beginning to rise that Bobby finally speaks again. "I don't know if your dad has told you this, but I want you to know so I'm going to just in case. Dean’s father, John, was raped by the alpha of your dad’s pack. The old pack. The one before he made his own.” A shock of rage barrels through me. Every thread of mine vibrates with it, the members of my pack sending questioning pulses back at me. I hear Dean stir in his bed, whining low despite still being asleep. I breathe, trying to relax for him. 

Probably aware of my emotions, Bobby waits a few more seconds before continuing. “You’ll have to talk to your dad about what happened. I’ll be honest, I never gave him a chance to explain. I didn’t care. He promised to keep John safe, and he failed. That’s all that mattered to me.”

I dig my nails into the dirt and grumble low in my throat, unable to stop myself from imagining Dean getting raped and hurt. 

“John wanted this life. He wanted to be with your dad and have babies. He was okay with it. What happened to him… the rape… it changed him. He was happy here, before. He was happy with your dad. I respected that for him. Hell, I was thinking about taking the bite to become part of the pack.” Bobby sighs. “And then… what happened, happened. And John was changed. Different. He wouldn’t get out of bed or eat or talk. I was so fucking scared for him that I let your dad finally come inside after he had spent 3 days living outside his bedroom window just like this. I hated your dad, I wanted to kill him, but I thought maybe if he could get John better, I could find a way to work past it.” 

Bobby sighs. Shakes his head. “But your dad, he… damn if he didn’t just make things worse, Castiel. John lost it. He just… he fucking shattered, right there in his room, within seconds of your dad entering it. He wouldn’t let your dad near him. At this point, of course, everyone knew he had caught. The wolves could smell it, and John could feel it, and I wasn’t an idiot. I knew how things worked. He was raped while in heat. Your dad tried to convince him to stay. He said he’d raise Dean with John. Accept him as his own son. John said he’d die before he ever let your dad or any other wolf anywhere near his baby, and that night he left. I got a postcard from New York a few months later. He begged me not to tell your dad that’s where he was, and of course, I didn’t. And then John… never came back. Your dad met your mom. Shit obviously went down with the pack, though I have no idea what. All I know is the alpha and many others were suddenly gone, and your dad was in charge.”

I realize as he had been speaking that I had pressed my body as close to the outside of Bobby’s house as I could get, trying to get closer to Dean where he rested on the other side in his bed. The thought of him being hurt, of him being bred by someone else, of him hating me, of him running away from me, burns inside my chest until I worry I can’t breathe. 

When Bobby stands up, I turn my head to look up at him. He stares down at me with an expression I can’t place. “I told you this because I need you to understand, Castiel. I need you to see that there is a reason why I don’t trust any of you. There’s a reason why it terrifies me that Dean is like he is. I had prayed he was human. John had, too. John was convinced he was one of those rare offspring that didn’t have the gene. He said Dean was too comfortable in the city. He was too headstrong. He was too happy where he was. John said the city made him itch all the way down to his soul, and he didn’t see that with Dean. He believed Dean had escaped his fate, and I let myself believe it too. I brought him here. This is my fault. I accept responsibility for that.”

I shift, pushing to my feet in one move. He opens his mouth, probably to yell at me for not listening when he said I needed to stay in my wolf form, but I cut him off before he can. This is too important. “You aren’t taking him from here. I won’t let you.”

“Yes. You will. If it’s what that boy wants, then you will, or I’ll kill you and your entire fucking pack, Castiel.” Bobby takes a step closer, his voice dipping low. “But I told you all of that because I want you to know that I think John should have stayed. Looking back now, knowing what I know, I wish I would have convinced him to stay. He was lonely all of his life. He was uncomfortable in his own skin, trapped in a place that made him depressed and anxious, just so he could avoid wolves. He missed your dad. I know he did. He never stopped loving him. So, if Dean chooses to stay, I won’t force him to leave, and I will support him. I will support your relationship with him. I won’t go against his wishes. That’s why I told you this. I had a lot of time to think over the past few days, and that’s what I’ve decided. Whatever Dean wants, I’m going to accept. I’m hoping you’ll respect my nephew enough to do the same, even if things don’t go your way.”

My heart feels like it’s beating too fast and too slow at the same time. Can I do that? Can I let Dean go if he doesn’t want to be here? If he doesn’t want to be with me? Could I do what my dad did and just move on? No one would ever compare… You don’t get a second true mate. Not ever. There isn’t a single case of it happening. Not even myths or tall stories. 

Could I really live the rest of my life settling for someone else when I know somewhere out there is _Dean_? 

“Yes.” I look through his bedroom window, making his shape out in the dark. “Whatever he wants to do. Whatever makes him happy. He’s what matters.”

Looking surprised, Bobby gives me a curt nod and offers me his hand. I take it with trembling fingers and give him a proper shake. 

Then he smirks. “Now either get dressed or go back to wolf form. It’s bad enough having you lurking around. The naked thing is where I draw the line.”

I chuckle. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and Castiel?” I look up, raising one eyebrow in question. “If you let that boy get hurt, I will kill you.”

The air goes heavy around us. "Duly noted.” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Dean**

I’m lucky that the end of my heat was the start of a weekend, and Uncle Bobby lets me skip a day of school too as the next week begins. I spend the entire time in my bedroom, other than bathroom breaks and one time at the kitchen table where I sat for 3 minutes waiting for my tea to steep. He didn’t bother me, and I was thankful for that. There was so much I needed to work out. 

It doesn’t help that Castiel is pretty much living outside my bedroom window. 

Or maybe it does help. 

I am conflicted on the subject. 

Hell, I’m conflicted on… everything. 

If I told Uncle Bobby to tell Castiel to go away, I know he would. He’d get his silver bullets and chase him off. At the very least, the damn man could go to school during the day before coming back to do… well, whatever the hell it is he does outside my window every hour of the day and night. 

I don’t know why I haven’t asked Uncle Bobby to do that. 

Or maybe I do know why. 

LIke I said… I’m conflicted. 

Uncle Bobby knocks on my bedroom door at 7 Tuesday morning, calling for me to wake up and start getting ready for school. I give him a weak, “Okay,” because there’s nothing else to really say or do. He told me yesterday I needed to go back, and I didn’t have the energy to argue. It’s not like I need to tell him that I’m already awake, anyway. I’ve been awake. 

I’m not sure if I slept at all, to be honest. If I did, it was hazy and didn’t last long. 

I feel like a zombie as I stand in the shower, water pouring over me. I at least remember to run a soapy hand along my body and over my head. Then I’m reminded of how I had scrubbed myself after I met Castiel for the first time, and I start to cry. 

It’s going to be a long day. 

  
  


**Castiel**

When I hear Bobby tell Dean to get ready for school, and Dean not arguing with him, I head back to my own place in my wolf form so I can do the same. My dad hasn’t even bothered to fight with me over pretty much stalking Bobby’s house. I hadn’t told him about the conversation we had, I’m still trying to sort everything I learned out in my head, but I told him Bobby gave me permission. He raised a fuss about me missing school, but he dropped that quickly too. I think he could tell I wasn’t going to be swayed. 

Once I’m showered - with as much mundane soap as I can so that I’m clean but smell like the true mate that he hopefully won’t be able to resist - and dressed in nice jeans and my favorite flannel, I grab my bag and head to school. 

I didn’t realize how hard it was going to be, though. 

The moment I arrive, I see Dean standing at his locker, looking tired and sad as Benny rubs a hand along his back. My wolf growls and I mentally agree with him. This needs to be fixed. Immediately. 

“Take your hands off of him, Benny,” I order, letting the slightest growl go into my voice. His survival instincts kick in, probably without him even being aware, and he drops his hand and takes a step back. It wasn’t enough to scare him away, though. 

“The fuck is your problem, Novak?”

“You fucking groping Dean in front of everyone.”

Benny’s eyes narrow. “I wasn’t _groping_ Dean. I was asking him if he was okay since he’s been sick for nearly a week. Maybe if you weren’t too busy being a selfish prick, you’d know that.”

_Oh, this fucker._

“Did you happen to notice I’ve been gone, too?”

“You and your family are always fucking gone, Novak. Who cares?” He turns away from me, focusing back on Dean even though Dean’s eyes are locked on me. “Ignore him. He’s being an ass. Are you okay?”

Dean stares at me for another second or two before blinking rapidly and looking at Benny. He forces a wobbly smile. “I’m okay. Thanks, Benny.” 

“I can walk you to class.”

“I’ll walk him to class,” I tell Benny. 

“Neither of you need to walk me to class,” Dean says quietly, looking too tired and upset to bother raising his voice at us. There’s no anger in his thread. No… _fuck._ There's no _anything_. I can barely feel our thread at all. It’s not just muted. It’s… I can’t explain it. 

I don’t _like_ it. 

“Dean-”

“Please,” he whispers, not looking at either of us as he holds his books tight to his chest. “Leave me alone.” 

It’s meant for both of us. Benny looks hurt, probably more confused than anything. I’m fucking devastated though. How can I possibly leave him alone when our thread is disintegrating? I’m losing him. I can fucking feel myself losing him. 

What do I do? 

What the fuck do I do?

A hand presses against the center of my back as I get a sudden surge of _calm, calm, calm_ through my thread with Jack. As I breathe the relief of the emotion into my lungs, he gives Dean and Benny a polite smile and says, “Good to see you guys. Come on, Cas. We don’t want to be late to class.”

I walk away, trusting Jack because that’s what I’m supposed to do, dad said an alpha should always trust his lead beta’s judgement, especially during times where the alpha’s mind is clouded, and since Jack will be my lead beta when I take my dad’s place, I need to trust him. I _do_ trust him. 

That doesn’t mean I don’t ache with every step I take away from Dean. 

I survive my first 3 classes. 

Then I break. 

I’m weak. 

I’m not afraid to admit that I’m really fucking weak. 

When I catch the scent of Dean coming from the bathroom, his usually sweet smell darkened around the edges, I stop heading towards my classroom and duck into the bathroom instead. I can tell immediately that there’s no one else but him, so I lock the door behind myself and drop my bag. 

He’s in the last stall, the stall door closed and locked. I can hear his soft sniffles and little choked cries. If I was human, I wouldn’t be able to. He’s doing a great job at muffling himself. 

“Dean?” His breath hitches, his heart kicking into overdrive. “Sweetheart, can I come in? Or maybe you come out?”

A soft whine is his only response. I take it as a no, and I respect it. 

“Okay. That’s fine. I’ll just be here then, okay? I’m right here if you need me.” 

He sniffles as a response. 

Our thread still feels like nothing more than vapor. I want to ask him if he feels that too. I want to ask him how it happened, because it’s been fading, sure, but this morning outside his window our thread wasn’t like this. I want to ask him how I can fix this with us. 

Leaning my hands against the stall door, I hang my head between my shoulders. A fear of mine bubbles past my lips without my permission. “Did I fuck up while you were sick?”

His heartbeat quickens again. “What do you mean?”

“Did I take advantage of you? Push things too far?” I close my eyes, my body beginning to tremble. “Did I hurt you, sweetheart?”

“No. God, Cas, no. I just…” Dean releases a shaky breath. Then I feel the door jiggle against my hands. I step back just before he opens it for me. His face is blotchy and red, his cheeks soaked with tears, and his eyes full of more. He’s so god damn beautiful, it takes my breath away. He seems to be affected by seeing me too, since he’s gone speechless, his eyes focused on me as we stare at each other. 

Finally, Dean whispers, “Hi.”

“Hey there.”

Tentatively, in case he doesn’t want me to, I reach out to him and place my hand against his face to cup his cheek. He leans into the touch, nuzzling the tip of my finger that’s closest to his nose. Our thread starts to brighten and reshape itself. I can feel him, ever so slightly. A steady _love love love._

It gives me hope. 

"You look exhausted," I whisper. 

“I am.” 

“I wish I could do something to help you.”

Dean closes his eyes. I miss the pretty green of them already. “I just… I can’t think. There’s so much… I - there’s too much, Cas. So many decisions.”

“You don’t have to make any decisions right now, Dean. There’s no time limit. You can leave tonight if you want, or months from now, or years from now. You can decide to be with me now and leave me later. Or you can decide you don’t want to be with me now and change your mind and be with me later. We can never have kids, if that’s what’s freaking you out. Just because you can doesn’t mean you have to. You’re under no obligation to me or the pack.” 

He looks at me with creased eyebrows, and I realize no one has said this to him. Not a single person, including myself, took the time in all of this chaos to let Dean know his options. To let him know he has no expectations. No deadlines. No pressure. 

“I want you to be happy,” I tell him quietly, needing him to understand this. “That’s all that matters to me.”

Dean shifts on his feet before looking down at the ground and asking, “Can you just give me more time, please? And… space?"

My wolf thrashes, a snarl building in his chest and echoing in my own. I ignore him. 

"Of course, Dean. I'll be here if you need me, but I'll give you space." I take my hand away, hating how cold I suddenly feel without his skin against mine. "Or if you'd rather talk to Jack, or Charlie, or Anna. Whoever. We're all here for you if you need us."

"Okay." He wipes his face with the sleeve of his sweater before meeting my eyes. His heartbeat picks up again, and despite our thread being the way it is, I detect a bit of fear. "Please don't do that again… with Benny. I'm not your property, and I can take care of myself."

Even though the words taste bitter, I nod and say, "Of course. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Okay." He looks off to the side, towards the door. "Mind moving a little? I'm sort of trapped here."

"Oh. Right." I take a step back so he has enough space to leave the stall. He hurries out of the bathroom without another word, the sound of the heavy door closing the only thing he leaves behind. 

  
  
  


**Dean**

I sit with Benny and his friends at lunch, partly because I really do need space, and partly to test if Castiel will respect my request. So far, he hasn't bothered me. We're halfway through the lunch period, and though I can feel his eyes boring into me from across the cafeteria, Castiel stays where he belongs. It might be killing him, but it's nice for me. I like seeing him listen. I like seeing him respect me. When he had come up to me and Benny this morning, all of my trust in him had dissolved. Our thread went blank and I was grateful. 

I was free of him. 

That's how I realized my biggest problem with everything that's happened, the real thing I'm struggling with. I feel trapped. 

Trapped in a body I no longer understand or want. Trapped in a situation that I can't control. Trapped with a man who holds so much power over my mind and body that I'm terrified he's going to swallow me up until I'm no longer myself. Until I'm nothing but _his_. 

I hate that idea. 

I love that idea. 

I hate loving that idea. 

I want him to make me his. To claim me and mark me and own me. Even now, with the heat over with, it's a dull longing in my mind. But do I really want that, or is biology tricking me into thinking I want that? What if I don't even like Castiel? What if I don't actually want to be with him, but my body does? How do I know if all those feelings for him were real?

What we had together felt so real. So good. It felt like I had finally found a place where I belonged, and that place was beside Castiel. Biology or not, should I really fight that?

God, I wish I had my dad right now. I’d give anything to be able to talk to him about this. To ask for his advice. To just get a simple fucking hug from him. 

"Dean?" Benny asks in a tone that makes me think he's said my name more than once. 

I blink my eyes into focus to find him frowning at me. "Sorry, what?"

"Are you feeling okay? You haven't touched your lunch."

"Oh." I look down at the lunch I had purchased today as if seeing it for the first time. The sandwich and chips look unappealing. "I guess maybe I'm still a little sick. Sorry."

Benny laughs softly. "Don't apologize to me. You're the one sick."

"I don't like being a burden," I accidentally admit. God, I need to get some sleep. Clearly I'm losing it. "I have no idea why I said that. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, and you're not a burden, Dean. I’m worried about you, though. Maybe you should go home? You look like you’re ready to pass out.”

“I’m okay. Really.” I force a smile. I start to reach for my sandwich with the intention of taking a small bite to prove to Benny that I really am okay, but I quickly pull my hand back when I realize how badly it’s shaking. 

With a sigh that makes me genuinely smile just a teeny bit because of how much it reminds me of Castiel, Benny opens my untouched Gatorade and nudges it towards me. “At least get some damn electrolytes in your body.”

“Thanks.” I use both hands to take my drink, hoping it makes the shaking less noticeable. The Gatorade actually helps, at least. It settles the nausea in my stomach and makes me less dizzy. I take a few slow sips as I listen to Benny and the others talk about the football game this Friday. They all ignore me, though I don’t think it’s to be mean. More like they realize I might vomit if I try to speak to any of them. 

Maybe I really am getting sick…

Oh my god, what if I’m pregnant? 

I drop the Gatorade on accident, the blue liquid spilling everywhere. Benny starts mopping it up with napkins as he and the others start asking me if I’m okay. I try to tell them I need to go, but I’m not sure if any of the words properly form. I don’t have the time to care as I nearly trip over my chair before stumbling out of the cafeteria. I press a hand to my mouth to keep my stomach in check until I reach the locker room nearby. Then I’m falling to my knees in front of a toilet and emptying my stomach of the very small amount of liquid I had managed to put in it lately. 

The vomiting comes in waves until I’m left with nothing but painful dry heaves. I curl up against the wall of the bathroom and close my eyes, hating that I can feel tears falling down my cheeks. I’m suddenly freezing cold and unable to stop shaking. 

A hand on my shoulder startles me before I look up to find Anna in front of me. 

Like an idiot, my first thought is, “This is the boys locker room.” 

“I couldn’t care less. Plus, I locked it when I got inside, so screw any boy who tries to get in.” She winks at me, but I don’t have the energy to conjure up a smile or laugh. It doesn’t seem to bother her though as she sinks to the dirty floor to sit beside me. “Not feeling so good, hey?”

“What gave it away?” I ask drly. Then I scoff. “I’m shocked Castiel didn’t come.”

“He was surprisingly calm about it. I think he knew you were going to be sick before you knew. He asked me to come find you and make sure you’re okay.” 

“Part of me hates him for respecting my boundaries right now.”

Anna laughs softly. “Yeah, I don’t get why you want that, but I’ve also never been in your shoes so I’m not judging, Dean. None of us are. And he’s trying really hard to understand and be whatever you need him to be.” 

I groan, putting my face in my hands. That just makes me want him more. Why can’t he just be an asshole instead? 

“Anna?” I ask, wanting to change the subject since the topic of Castiel is too hard right now. 

“Yes?”

“What if I’m pregnant?”

Anna’s jaw drops, her eyes getting huge. Then they narrow. “Wait - did my brother fuck you?”

“Well, I mean, no… I don’t think so."

"Oh, you would know. Trust me." 

"But what if, like, some of his cum somehow got in there or whatever." I cover my face again. "Oh my god, I can't believe I'm talking about this with you."

"Do you want me to just placate you, or do you want to know the gross reason why we know you aren't pregnant?" 

"I think maybe the gross one…"

Anna makes a face, but in a way that makes me smile a bit again. "We would be able to smell it. Or, not me… but the rest of them. Especially Castiel. In fact, he would have known within minutes if you caught. So, you're not pregnant."

I sigh in relief, though a part of me... this tiny, sad little part of me, is almost… sad. I shove the thought as far down as I can get it and bury it alive. 

_We don't want a baby, Dean. Remember? No fucking werewolf babies allowed!_

"Why am I sick then?"

“It's probably a drop."

"What's that?"

Anna sighs, looking up at the ceiling like the answer is there. "It's kind of hard to explain. It's like a crash from the high or something. I don't think anyone knows for sure. I heard once growing up that it was your body grieving that you didn't get pregnant. I've also heard it's just your body coming down and trying to get balanced again.When it was all over, what did you feel? If you don't mind telling me. I would never tell Cas."

"At first, I felt happy. I remember waking up and just feeling… amazing. But then I realized everything that had happened and I felt overwhelmed. He made a comment about me running away from him and I couldn't help but think I _should_ want to run from him, and then I _did_ want to run from him. Since then, I've felt… empty and overflowing at the same time." 

Anna frowns down at her pant leg as she pulls at a loose string. "What does your thread feel like?" 

"Awful." I shake my head. "I can't even describe it. But it's _awful_."

"It's bad for him, too. Really bad."

I close my eyes. "Am I being a fucking idiot? I wanted space because I feel like all of a sudden I'm this tiny cog in this huge grand supernatural plan with a werewolf that's in love with me without even really knowing me and that can control me with a simple tight grip to the back of my neck and now every time I go into heat I'm going to be vulnerable and he has all this power over me and I feel like I love him too which logically doesn't make sense even if my biology is begging me to be with him and I feel powerless and afraid and I'm hurting both of us by throwing a fit over-" 

"Dean," Anna says softly, grabbing my face with both hands and looking me in the eye. "Breathe. You have to breathe."

I nod, gasping for air. Tears are pouring down my face. I'm starting to get very used to the sensation. 

"Can I make a suggestion?" Anna asks once I've caught my breath and calmed a little. 

"Please."

"Why don't you guys try and be normal? Worst case scenario, you go into heat about a month from now. Hopefully you go a few months without dealing with it. That buys you time."

"Time for what?"

She smirks. "To just… be teenage boys that like each other. To go back to who you were before you presented. Go to football games. Flirt. Date. Sneak kisses. See if you want to be with him."

"But its not a choice… the connection we have, its fucking with my mind. I'm not really even me anymore. If I left, maybe I could fix-"

"Woah, wait. No. Being true mates doesn't do that, Dean."

"It does. I can feel it."

"Whatever you're feeling is genuine. True mates has to do with biology and connection. Sure, its become this huge romantic thing among us wolves, but it really has nothing to do with love. There are plenty of wolves who are happy and in love with a mate that isn't their true mate, and I've heard of people who found their true mate and aren't in love with them. There's a pack that we're allies with way up north. The alpha has his true mate there, she's the pack's only omega, but he's in love with his best friend who is also his lead beta, and she loves one of the male betas. It's actually really cool to see. You can tell their connection, and they're like best friends, but it's platonic. The alpha is a sucker for his Beta, just head over heels for the guy. They just officially mated this summer actually. So, that feeling of calm and connection and safety you feel with Cas? _That's_ the True Mates thing. And sure, you're attracted to him, but how many normal humans are attracted to people who they've never even met or people they aren't in love with? That's just biology."

"Plus," she adds before I can speak. "You started having feelings for Cas before you ever even presented, which means your omega gene - the part of you that the whole True Mates magic applies to - wasn't even active yet. That's why it's crazy that he could smell you like he did. And it's crazy how strong your thread was so soon after meeting. You two are anomalies." 

I rest my head back against the wall and close my eyes. "Now my head hurts even worse."

Anna laughs before gently patting me on the shoulder. "I can't even imagine. The amount of information that's been thrown at you this week, on top of the hormones and confusion… I have no idea how you're still standing, dude."

"Me either." I keep my eyes closed and stay in place even though I sense her pushing to her feet. "Anna?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you have Cas come in here, please?"

I can hear the smile in her voice when she answers. "Of course." 

  
  


**Castiel**

_He thinks the love he feels for you is the True Mates magic fucking with his head._

_He's afraid of the power you hold over his body and mind._

_He's overwhelmed._

_He needs you._

Anna's words swirl in my mind the whole way to the locker room, only fading once my eyes fall on Dean. My chest goes heavy at the sight of the beautiful omega curled up on the bathroom floor, clearly having been sick recently even if he flushed the evidence. He blinks up at me with heavy eyes and sniffles. 

"Anna said it was okay if I came." I go to one knee in front of Dean, making my hands into fists to keep from touching him. "Is this okay?"

Dean nods, his eyes leaving mine and drifting to the tile floor. "Thanks for comin'."

"Thanks for letting me."

"I'm really tired… and I don't feel so good… and I'm- I'm really _scared_ , Cas." His big green eyes look up at me like I have all the answers. I'd give anything for that to be the case. 

"I'm scared too," I admit. "I'm terrified that I'm losing you, Dean. Can you feel it? Is our thread fucked up for you too? I swear, I can feel you slipping right through my fingers."

He reaches out and takes one of my hands in his. He's shaky and clammy. Pale, too. I bite my tongue to keep from going into concerned mate mode. I'm not his mate, and if I keep fucking shit up, I never will be. 

"I feel it too." Dean releases a shuddery breath. "Can we try to go back, maybe?"

"Back?" 

"To before everything got so intense. Like the football game and the party. Talking. Getting to know each other. Flirting." He shrugs, avoiding eye contact. "Back to normal."

I try to keep myself from getting too excited as I ask, "So, we can be friends? Maybe something more? Like we were before?"

"Friends." He nibbles on his bottom lip before adding, "Maybe something more..." 

"Okay."

He perks up. "Really?"

"Really. Dean, I'm willing to give you whatever you need." 

"Thank you," he whispers, his words choked with emotion. "I just - thank you. I didn't want to lose you, but what we were after my… heat. It was too much. Too fast. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Dean. I understand. You got overwhelmed. You need to pump the breaks. I'm fine with that, okay?"

"Okay." He shifts on the floor before peeking up at me through his lashes. I notice his cheeks are tinged pink. "Will you still, um… sleep outside my window?"

I pause. "You knew about that?"

"Yeah. It made me feel… safe. Like even as I worked through everything, you were still right there for me."

"Then absolutely. Fuck yes. I'll be there." 

"Good."

"Yeah." I grin. "Good."

\----

I convince Dean, as a friend, to go home for the day and get some more rest. Maybe something to eat. I said I'd be by later, and waiting was killing me. The moment school was out, I rushed through my homework and dropped my shit off at home, then shifted and went for a run. I ran for at least an hour or two, caught up in my thoughts. There has always been something so damn therapeutic about the steady rhythm of my paws against the forest ground. 

When I get to Dean's, I smell something that has my mouth watering. I slowly approach his window before woofing a deep laugh at what I find. It's a huge fucking slab of steak and a big dog bowl of water. A note is taped to the outside of his window. 

**_I know it's probably not as great as a deer - I Googled what wolves eat, and deer was one of the things… is that true? I'm picturing you killing bambi's mom… do you kill bambi's mom? DO YOU KILL BAMBI?! - but you'll have to get over it. I wanted to cook it but Bobby said you'd rather it… bloody. Which. Like. Ew._ **

**_Enjoy your dinner wolfboy._ **

**_Thank you for not leaving me._ **

**_Thank you for making me feel safe._ **

**_\- Yours (eventually), Dean_ **


	10. Chapter 10

**Dean**

When I get to my locker the morning after Castiel and I agreed to go back to normal, I find a note slipped inside. I glance over my shoulder before carefully opening it. 

I read it twice, grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. 

**_My (eventually) Dean,_ **

**_Thanks for dinner, though I think you owe human me a dinner too. Preferably with you across from me. A restaurant would be best. I'll wear nice clothes and you'll look all adorable. We'll talk about stupid shit like favorite colors and homework._ **

**_This is a date I'm describing, if that wasn't clear._ **

**_I'd like to bring you on a date. I promise I'll even get my steak cooked. Offer is standing. Just let me know when you're ready._ **

**_Thank you for letting me in again._ **

**_Thank you for making me feel whole._ **

**_\- Yours (already), wolfboy_ **

**_P.S. I don't eat Bambi or Bambi's mom. I'm too big. Only Bambi's dad is enough to satisfy me. Forgive me? I'm super cute, remember? With my adorable wolfy head tilt?_ **

After reading it a few more times, I carefully fold the note back up and slide it into the front pocket of my backpack to keep safe. I'm running a little late because of my re-reading of the note so many times, so I grab my books and hurry off to my first class of the day. 

As the teacher begins talking about our upcoming test, I pull up a blank piece of notebook paper and begin to brainstorm what I want to say in return. Just thinking about the note makes me feel giddy. I haven't felt this good since… since dad died, I think. Not counting the euphoria of orgasms during my heat, which doesn't really count. 

I spend my first 3 class periods sneakily writing my response, slipping the note into Castiel's locker once I’ve seen him grab his books for 4th period and walk away from it. I walk away feeling jittery as if I did something naughty or overly exciting. 

Benny asks me twice in class why I'm so smiley, pointing out that he's not complaining at all, just curious. I tell him I'm just feeling much better before sinking back in my seat and watching the clock. Every minute that passes is one minute closer to seeing Castiel at lunch. I'm not even sure I'm going to sit at his table, but the idea of being able to watch him, even from across the cafeteria, is thrilling. 

\----

**_My (already) wolfboy,_ **

**_I'm free this Saturday, but I have one condition: We eat dessert first._ **

**_I can't wait to learn your favorite color and bitch about homework with you._ **

**_I've decided that you eating Bambi's father is acceptable. Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose. It's better than you eating me. I totally forgive you, and it's 100% because of the 'adorable wolfy head tilt.'_ **

**_The eyes help too…_ **

**_\- Yours (eventually), Dean_ **

\-----

**_My (eventually) Dean,_ **

**_Saturday sounds perfect. And I'm never one to turn down dessert, so I accept the terms._ **

**_I can't wait either._ **

**_The only type of eating I want to do to you isn't Disney appropriate, don't worry. You taste way better than Bambi's dad, anyway. Or dessert for that matter. Or anything. At all. Fuck you taste good._ **

**_Great. Now I have a boner in Miss Missouri's class… and she's giving me a look. Do you have her? I can't remember if you do. I swear, she can read minds or some shit._ **

**_Or I'm just paranoid…_ **

**_See what you do to me?_ **

**_\- Yours (already), wolfboy_ **

\-----

**_My (already) wolfboy,_ **

**_I think I'm flattered… I'm not used to being told I taste good. Then again, I'm not used to the whole liking a you-know-what either, so._ **

**_I DO have Miss Missouri and she totally has psychic abilities. She talks to me like she knows me even though I'm new._ **

**_I take NO responsibility for your boner._ **

**_You have better control than that._ **

**_Be good, wolfy._ **

**_\- Yours (eventually), Dean_ **

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Dean**

Lightning flashes across the sky, a clap of thunder following quickly after, loud enough to rattle the house. Uncle Bobby is already asleep, and I'm lying in my bed with my books spread out, doing homework and trying to ignore the fact that the boy I like is only a few feet away. I startle when another round of thunder hits, lifting my eyes just in time to see the lightning off in the distance. It's one of those storms where the sky just opens up and starts pouring rain like crazy, no soft introduction or build up. 

I hesitate for a few seconds, which I think should earn me some kind of prize, before giving in. Then I'm up off my bed and pushing my window open. Castiel's black fur blends well with the darkness, but the soft glow from my bedside lamp is enough for me to make his shape out. He lifts his head to look at me, doing that cute head tilt I like to tease him about. 

"Come in here. But as a human. I don't want it to smell like wet dog in my room." 

He snorts through his nose before pushing up from the ground. It's the first time I've seen him shift. It's easier than I imagined. Graceful almost. There's a soft noise as bones and muscles shift and re-form, but it doesn't look painful, and it doesn't take more than a few seconds. 

"Shhh." I whisper, putting my finger to my lip before gesturing for him to come through my window. "I'll be right back."

Trying to hurry and stay quiet at the same time, I grab two mugs and packets of tea and go to my bathroom. As I run the water, waiting for it to get hot, I grab an armful of towels and bring them into my room again. I nearly trip over my own feet when I enter. Castiel is naked, his curly hair plastered all over his face, his large muscles accented by the water running through each curve and dip. And his cock. Fuck. It's only half-hard, and still...

I feel my hole flutter and my whole body go red. His chin snaps up, those blue eyes of his flashing impossibly bright. Before he can confirm that he knows my reaction to him, and before I'm stupid enough to act on it, I practically chuck the towels in his direction and scurry back to the bathroom. I'm pretty sure he chuckles as I go. It may or may not make me smile. 

The water is finally as hot as it will get, so I fill up the two mugs and put a teabag in each before carrying them into the bedroom. Castiel has a towel wrapped around his waist, another one in his hand as he uses it to dry his hair. I didn't think it could be possible, but there's a chance he's even sexier like this. Something about being partly covered and looking domestic and at home like he just slipped out of a shower makes me tingly. 

It gets worse when he pauses to pin me with his blue eyes, his gaze burning hot with lust in response to my own arousal. 

"Tea!" I blurt. 

Castiel smirks. "Okay."

"I brought it. Tea. For you. Us. Unless you want both." My cheeks go red. "I made tea."

"I see that,” Castiel says softly, his smile fond. “Thank you, Dean."

"I, uh… I don't have clothes for you. You're-" my eyes wander down to his towel where I can see his bulge. I gulp. "You're bigger than me."

Laughing, Castiel drops the towel he was using on his hair and walks forward. He takes one of the mugs, cupping my cheek with his other hand. I can't stop myself from leaning into the touch, even though it's cold from the autumn rain. "I can just drink my tea and go home if you want."

My stomach twists. "What? No!"

Castiel’s eyebrows pull in, as if my reaction shocked him. "What do you want me to do, then? Go back outside? I can, if you want, but you were upset when I was out there." 

I don't ask how he knows that. Our thread has been growing again. Strengthening. I’ve been pretending that I don’t like it. 

"You're right. I don't want you outside."

"I can wait in here until the storm stops, then go back out the window."

"No." I grab his hand, pressing it harder against my face. My voice trembles as I beg, "Stay here. With me. All night." 

"Dean-"

"Just to sleep. Please?" 

He smiles at me so hard you would think he just won a prize. "If you're okay with that, I would love to, Dean. Yes." 

I sigh in relief, my eyes closing. I keep them that way as he strokes my cheek with his finger and asks, "Are you finished with your homework?" 

I deflate. 

"Don’t be a fun sucker,” I grumble. 

“If you have homework, you should finish it. I don’t want you to be stressed out tomorrow.”

I turn my face to press a kiss against his palm, then step away. “Fine. I still have homework. Don’t you?”

“We aren’t talking about me.”

“Ooooh.” I roll my eyes, laughing. “I see how it is. Well, I’m not doing homework unless you do yours.”

“Sure. Of course.” Castiel looks around for a few seconds befores swinging his arm and snapping his fingers. “Damn. Didn’t bring my backpack. Doesn’t fit on the wolf body, ya know?”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I climb onto my bed and settle in the center of it. I move the books and notes that I don’t need anymore and put them on the floor so there’s room for him. With a pat on my literature book, I grin at him. “Good thing we’re in the same Lit class. Come. You can borrow mine.”

“You’re lucky I like you.”

“Yeah.” I duck my head, focusing on my book as I search for the assigned reading. “I am.” 

His calloused thumb skims my cheek. “I’ve missed making you blush.”

“Shut up,” I grumble. I give him a fake glare that makes him smile harder, which makes me blush harder. I thrust the book at him without even finding the right page so I can avoid further smiles and blushing and giddy butterfly feelings in my stomach that I hate but love all at once. “Read your story.”

“Have _you_ read the story?”

“Not yet.” I point at my math. “I need to finish this first. I can read that tomorrow at lunch if I need to.” 

“We’ll wait. I’ll read it to you when you’re done with your math.”

I pause, my hand tight on my pencil. “I - you would read to me?”

“Yeah… if that’s okay?”

“That’d be… really great. Yeah.”

He sits back against the headboard, sipping his tea. I look out of the corner of my eye before reaching down and grabbing one of my discarded sweaters from the floor by my bed. He chuckles when I very awkwardly - while blushing again - cover his cock and its surrounding area. 

“Better,” I mumble. He laughs softly but doesn’t say anything, just continuing to sip his tea. 

I make it through four math problems. Then he’s putting his tea on the bedside table and sliding behind me so his legs are bracketing me. When I lift my pencil from the paper, he leans forward to press his lips against the shell of my ear and says, “Keep doing your homework.”

A shiver runs through me but I try to do as told. It’s nearly impossible, especially as his hands dip beneath the hem of my sweater, fingertips beginning to draw shapes on my skin. I shiver again, letting my eyes fall closed. It feels good. Really good. I make a sound I didn’t know I could make. Something almost like a purr. It pulls a growl from Castiel and I feel him grow hard against me. He doesn’t act on it though, and I’m grateful for that. 

“You’re very distracting.”

“Am I?” he asks in an amused voice. 

“You know you are.”

“Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“No.” He drags his lips along the curve of my neck. “I’m not.”

I arch my neck to the side to expose more of my throat for him, making that purring sound again when his lips skim over those freckles that are so damn sensitive for some reason. I sigh, sinking back against him. 

“This is not productive,” I whisper.

“Mmmm.” He kisses my temple, then tilts my head so he can kiss down the other side of my neck. “Depends on your definition of productive.”

“I’m going to make you go out in the storm.”

He gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

“No. No, I wouldn’t.” 

Chuckling softly, he nuzzles my cheek before nipping at my jaw. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I feel like an addict that got invited into a crack den.”

“I’m sorry for corrupting you," I whisper a little breathlessly. 

“I’m already over it.” He sticks his tongue out, licking the shell of my ear. Then his teeth clamp down on my earlobe and tug. I jerk in his arms, which just tighten around me as he chuckles again. “I’m sorry. I’m being bad. You wanna go slow.”

“What a stupid thing I said,” I declare, feeling the slick collecting between my cheeks in that starting-to-be-familiar way. 

Castiel growls and digs his fingers into my sides. “Fuck you smell good.”

“S-sorry?”

Castiel releases a long, slow breath, then moves me away so he can climb off the bed. I lean in his direction like there’s some sort of magnetic pull between us. It takes me a few seconds to even realize he’s left me, my mind a little blurry. 

“Cas?”

“Just give me a minute.”

“No. No minutes. Minutes are bad.” I push to my hands and knees and crawl towards the edge of the bed to reach an arm out towards him. He steps back, shaking his head. I can’t help but notice that his entire body is trembling. 

Then I can’t help but notice that he’s no longer covered by my sweater, and his cock is hard and glistening at the tip. 

_Oh_. 

_Oh_ , I want to _taste_ him. 

“No,” Castiel says firmly, putting a hand up as he takes another step back. “No. Stay.”

“But-”

“Stay.” He takes a deep breath before grabbing a towel off the bed and wrapping it around his waist. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Maybe shower. Or something. I don’t know. You clear your mind, alright?”

“But-”

“Bye!" 

He disappears then, leaving me sitting at the edge of my bed horny and confused. 

_What the hell?_

  
  
  
  


**Castiel**

“ _Idiot_ ,” I tell my reflection, gripping the edges of the bathroom sink so tight the porcelain starts to crack. My eyes are brighter than normal, my wolf clearly lurking beneath my surface. I should have never started cuddling Dean. Touching him. Kissing his neck. He asked for space and then I went and ruined it by getting him all worked up. By crossing the line. By betraying his trust. 

A tap on the bathroom door draws my attention away from the mirror. I look over just in time to see a flash of paper skid across the tiled floor. It makes my stomach flip, the corners of my mouth twitching as I reach for it. 

**_My (already) wolfboy,_ **

**_I just completed TWO math problems - successfully, I’d like to point out._ **

**_If I were a person who ran races or some crap like that, I would be fully capable of participating in such an activity._ **

**_I’m not even leaking out of my… ya know, anymore._ **

**_Moral of this story:_ **

**_I still want you to come back here and give me more kisses._ **

**_You give really nice kisses._ **

**_And cuddles._ **

**_And other things._ **

**_I want you._ **

**_Please._ **

  * **_Yours (sooner rather than later please), Dean_**



Grinning, I carefully fold the note up to save it for later and head back to his room. The books are pushed off of the bed, the only thing on the mattress a beautiful Dean wearing nothing but his oversized pink sweater he had already been wearing, his tight black briefs peeking out from the hem, and fuzzy halloween socks. 

“God damn you’re fucking gorgeous,” I whisper, shutting and locking the bedroom door behind myself. 

Dean’s cheeks go almost as pink as his sweater. He tucks his chin down and looks at me through his lashes. “Come kiss me.”

“Can’t turn down an invite like that.” I slowly climb onto the bed, stalking him like he’s prey until I’m settled between his legs. “Can I touch you too?”

“Please.”

I press my hand into the mattress by his head and lean down to press my lips to his, my free hand finding the outside of his thigh. The skin there is so fucking soft and warm, I think I could stroke there forever. Though I’m sure all of him feels like that. I suppose I’ll just have to conduct research. A whole lot of research. 

Dean wraps the leg I’m holding around my waist, giving me access to his firm ass cheek. I squeeze him through his underwear, swallowing his moans as I use my grip to grind him against me. Deciding I want to hear his pretty noises, I break our kiss and start to kiss along his jaw instead. One of his hands runs through my hair while the other grabs at my hip to pull me harder against him. 

“K-kiss the - the spot,” he pants, arching his throat. 

Knowing exactly what he’s asking for, I smirk against the skin beneath his jaw and say, “Patience, sweetheart.”

“Nooooo.”

“Shhh.” I slide my hand beneath the hem of his sweater, skating my fingertips along the buttery skin of his side. He shivers, goosebumps rising beneath my touch. When I reach one of his nipples, his breath hitches. “That feel good?” I tease, thumbing the nub until he’s moaning again. 

Dean’s back arches and he shudders, a wrecked noise falling from his lips as his subtle scent in the room explodes into something heady and thick. I already know why, but I check anyway, running my hand back down his side and to his ass cheeks. He turns his face away from my lips to bury it into his pillow as my fingers brush the damp fabric of his boxers. 

“Mmmm.” I pull back to rest on my knees, tugging him closer to bridge the gap between us so his crotch is in contact with me again. He’s still hiding, so I ruck his sweater up and begin pressing little kisses to his soft belly and slim hips. Dean holds out on me until my mouth moves past the waistband of his boxers and covers his erection through the fabric. Then he breaks, his head snapping over so he can look at me with his pretty green eyes wide. 

Locking eyes with him, I dip my fingers beneath the waistband and ask, “Can I take these off?”

He nibbles on his bottom lip for a moment before nodding. When he starts to look away from me again, clearly planning to hide, I stop. “No, no, no. Eyes on me, beautiful.”

"But-”

“Do you trust me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Yeah. Yes. Of course.”

I grin. “Then relax, and keep your eyes on me.”

Cheeks pink, Dean tries his best to do as told while I slowly peel back his underwear. His eyes widen when I stick my tongue out to drag the very tip along his shaft. Then they flutter shut when I lap at his leaking slit. 

Getting an idea, I grab his slim hips and easily flip him so he’s on his hands and knees. He doesn’t complain about the new position. Probably because he can hide his face in the pillow now. 

I part his pretty ass cheeks to expose his leaking hole. It winks when the cool air hits it, making both of us groan at the same time. Whether Dean’s aware of it or not, the omega arches his back to present his ass better for me. I take it as permission to push further and rub the pad of my thumb over his hole. As Dean’s distracted by the new development, squeaking and shivering, I take advantage to lower myself and catch him by surprise with my tongue. 

Chuckling softly at the noises that quickly begin spilling out of Dean’s mouth, I keep my grip on his ass cheeks firm and start to eat him like a hungry wolf – pun totally intended. He doesn’t taste quite as good as he did in heat, but that’s something I’m thankful for. This is a different arousal, a more controlled arousal. His heat was such a frenzy that neither of us got to just enjoy ourselves much. This time around, I plan on enjoying myself. _Thoroughly_ enjoying myself. And I plan on giving him the same experience. 

Just when I can tell he’s getting overwhelmed, I pull back to give him a break from my tongue and begin planting gentle kisses along the cups of his ass cheeks instead. He relaxes into the mattress and sighs dreamily into his pillow. 

“Feel good, sweetheart?” I tease, running a fingertip down his crack to gather some slick before taking a little nip out of the fleshy underside of his ass cheek. 

“Ahh!” Dean pushes up on his hands, though his arms are very shaky and can barely hold him up, and looks at me over his shoulder with his jaw dropped. “Did you just _bite_ me?”

I shrug, smirking. “What do you expect? Comes with that whole wolfboy thing.” 

“Is that so?” Dean sighs dramatically. “Damn. And I was just about to keep you, too.”

“Biting is the line you’re gonna draw?” I ask in amusement, raising an eyebrow. “Really? _Biting_? You decide to keep me, and at least one major bite is in your future sweetheart.” 

Dean blushes beautifully before looking away again. “Forgot ‘bout that… guess biting isn’t soooo bad.”

“Good.” I nip at the opposite cheek as before, making him laugh. It’s such a goddamn beautiful sound. 

I’m so in love with him. 

_I’m so screwed._

Deciding feelings need to go on the back burner right the fuck now, I double-down on my efforts and bring my tongue back to Dean’s delicious hole. His breath hitches when I first lick him before he completely melts into the mattress with a low, deep moan. His hips lift further up to beg me for more. I chuckle at his sexy impatience before spreading his cheeks wider and making my tongue rigid so I can push it past his rim and start to fuck him with it. 

“Oh!” Dean moans, his thighs beginning to tremble. “Oh, Cas.”

I replace my tongue with a finger, crooking it in one fluid motion to find his glans. Dean’s toes wiggle against the sheets as he pushes back against the finger. Slick gushes over my hand until it’s dripping down my forearm. 

“You’re making such a mess,” I tsk teasingly. “Does this feel good, sweetheart?”

“Sooo good, Cas. So, so good. I forgot how good.”

“Because you’re out of your goddamn mind when you’re in heat. It’s better in a way now, isn’t it?” I dip in another finger, loving the way it makes his body shudder and his breathing speed up. “It’s better for me. Not so worried about you. Not so focused on satiating your needs. I can just enjoy how delicious you taste. How amazing you smell. How sexy you are when your greedy hole swallows up my fingers.” 

Dean moans lowly at my dirty words, another gush of slick coating my fingers. “When do you fuck me?” he asks breathlessly. 

I close my eyes to gather my control. “Dean, we aren’t even together, remember?”

“Oh, I remember. But let’s be real, ya know? Date a few times. Kiss. Do – do – do _this_ , oh god, right there!” he begs, losing his train of thought as I fuck my fingers in and out of him in just the right way. “What were we talkin’ ‘bout?” he asks after a minute. 

Laughing, I inform him, “You were asking when I’ll fuck you.”

“Right. Yes. That.” He starts to push back, fucking himself on my fingers. It’s so hot that I can’t even move. I just sit there like an idiot and watch in awe as his hole flutters around me. All I can picture is my cock in their place. It’d feel So. Fucking. Good. “Can we not until it’s time to get pregnant?”

I roll my eyes. “Why in the world are we having this discussion now?”

“Because it’s important and – and I really wanna know how soon I can get your cock in my ass.”

I groan. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart. You’re killin’ me.”

“Good. You’re killin’ me too.”

“I’ll fuck you when you’re 18. And no, you don’t get pregnant unless you’re in heat. We can talk about details later though.”

“I’m already 18,” Dean tells me, glancing over his shoulder with an adorable frown. “You knew that, didn’t you?”

No. 

No, I fucking didn’t. 

“I – I assumed because you moved in with Bobby. I didn’t – I assumed you were 17.”

“’m not.” He shakes his head. “18. ‘m 18.”

“Fuck. Okay.” I pull my fingers out and sit back, needing to clear my mind. “Dean, I don’t think-“

“I’m not gonna let you fuck me tonight,” he says in exasperation, looking over his shoulder so he can roll his eyes at me. “We haven’t even gone on our date. Get your mind outta the gutter.”

“ _My_ mind? You’re the one-“

“Cas!” he growls – an impressive growl too, considering he’s not a wolf. He pushes up on his knees and turns halfway to grab my shoulder. “Get your fingers or your tongue back in my ass. I wanna come stuffed full.”

My eyes flutter shut as I breathe. Then I gather myself and nod. “Alright. Back on all fours. I’ll give you what you need, sweetheart.”

Grinning like a little shithead, Dean does as told, wiggling his ass at me. I lean down and drag my tongue up the inside of his left thigh to collect all of the slick that had dripped down it. Then I repeat with his right thigh. After that, I lap up all of the excess slick in his crack and hole before pressing three fingers into him. He gasps and jerks forward but I hook my leg around one of his ankles and keep him nice and close, one hand working his ass, my other hand going to his front to wrap around his throbbing cock. 

“I love how little this is,” I admit, pressing up close behind him so I can whisper in his ear. He shudders and moans. “My pretty little omega with his pretty little omega cock.”

“Caaaas,” he grumbles, his body going hot with how hard he’s blushing all over. 

“You gonna shoot for me? Gonna show me how happy you are with your hole stuffed full?”

The sound Dean makes is somewhere between a whine and a whimper, and it’s so sexy I can’t help but start to rut my own cock against his thigh to get some relief. The moment he notices what I’m doing, his chin dipping so he can watch, his jaw dropping with a gasp, he’s coming all over my hand. His body trembles and shudders, his skin erupting in a million goosebumps. I stroke him through his orgasm until he goes lax in my arms. Then I gently lay him down and remove my fingers so I can take care of my own cock. I use the hand coated in his cum to jerk myself, already able to tell it won’t be long at all before I’ll be finishing. 

“Wait!” Dean gasps, stumbling and nearly falling on his face when he tries to turn around to face me. He looks up at me with those big green eyes of his and begs, “Can I?”

“Fuck, yes. Of course.” I guide his head forward and help him as he sucks my cock into his mouth. His eyelids flutter shut as he moans around my thick member. “God, you look so damn good like that, sweetheart.”

He hums happily at the praise and starts to work my cock harder with his tongue. All it takes is one of his clumsy hands trying to play with my balls and I’m tipping over the edge, barely having enough time to warn him beforehand. Not that it matters. He doesn’t pull away, greedily drinking my cum instead. 

Once we’ve both wiped ourselves clean and taken drinks of our cold tea to quench the thirst we worked up together, Dean changes his sheets into fresh ones and we collapse on the mattress in a heap of sweaty limbs and sleepy smiles. 

“I’m really glad it stormed tonight,” I admit as I drift off to sleep with Dean wrapped up in my arms. 

“Yeah,” Dean whispers, pressing in closer until I almost forget where I stop and he begins. “Me too.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Dean**

“So,” Uncle Bobby says conversationally as I sit across from him for breakfast. 

“So?”

“Quite the storm last night.”

I take a sip of my coffee and nod. “Mmmmhm.” 

“I’m not sure what was louder,” he continues. “The storm, or you and Castiel.”

The remaining liquid in my mouth goes flying as I sputter. Uncle Bobby just sits back in his seat and smirks. 

“I - he just -”

“Just came in through your window and then kept you up most of the night?”

“He - we _slept_ ," I argue, my face hot. 

“Did you?” Uncle Bobby raises an eyebrow. “I’m not sure if that’s the word I’d use.”

“Oh my god.” I bury my face in my hands and groan, wishing I could die on the spot. My response makes Uncle Bobby bark a laugh. I can’t decide if I’d rather him just yell at me instead. This might be worse. “Am I in trouble?”

Uncle Bobby sighs heavily. “Well, I haven’t decided yet. Considering the… _unusual_ circumstances, I suppose it’s silly to suddenly say it’s not allowed when I had given my approval before, right?”

I pull my hands away from my face but continue to stay focused on my coffee, unable to meet Uncle Bobby’s eyes. “Right…”

“That said, I did not get any sleep either, which is an issue, yes?”

“Oh god.” I go back to my hands over my face. “Please stop.”

“Do you know what your dad’s rule was?”

This gets me interested enough for my humiliation to go on the back burner. I drop my hands and sit up straight, looking at him for the first time. “What?”

“Michael was only allowed in his room at night if he stayed in wolf form. Kept everyone in the house _much_ happier.”

A million questions bubble up inside of me. “Wait, so does that mean that grandma and grandpa knew about Michael and dad? Did they know about the werewolf stuff too?”

“They didn’t know about any of it at first, but they took things surprisingly well when your dad presented and everything that happened happened.”

“So they didn’t know that dad would present?”

“No. Your dad was adopted by my parents - you knew that, right?” I nod. “So, obviously, no one had any clue he would have the gene. He was younger than me by a year. Michael was my best friend, and when John presented, Michael realized what was happening. He went to his alpha for advice because Michael’s parents were - well, that’s his story. But they weren’t there for him, so he turned to his alpha, and the alpha is who came over and explained everything. Michael and John were true mates, like you and Castiel, but John was too young for that in both the alpha’s and my parents opinion, so they didn’t get together right away.” 

“Did they know right away though? I mean, that they were true mates?”

“Michael knew. The alpha was…” Uncle Bobby pauses, his eyes sliding closed. I watch as his hands curl into fists. He doesn’t look at me when he continues. “The alpha helped. Explained things. Gave us what we needed to help John, because ma and dad didn’t trust these strangers to help, for good reason of course. John was only 15. Michael started hanging out with your dad more. I could tell the two of them were falling for each other, and honestly… I was happy. It was cool. Michael knew about the true mates thing, but he didn’t tell John until they were more serious. He hadn’t wanted to put pressure on John to be with him. They got together when John was 18, and that’s when Michael helped him through a heat for the first time. That’s when he explained more of the details to him, like the true mates shit.”

I stare down at the table, trying to soak this all in. “So, Michael and John were true mates… but Michael isn’t my dad?”

“Correct.”

“Then who is?”

Uncle Bobby releases a long, slow breath. “That’s a conversation I’d like to have at a different time, I think. You have school.”

“Okay.” I run a finger around the rim of my mug. “So, all of this talk… was that you trying to say Castiel can only come into the house if he’s wolf form?”

“Hell no. Those fluffy fuckers shed like crazy. He’s not welcome in the house in wolf form, he better be human and clothed.” Uncle Bobby smirks. “But, in your bedroom at night, he needs to be in wolf form and the door needs to stay open.”

“You don’t trust us?”

“I think you’re both horny teenagers who kept me up all last night. Do I think he’s an idiot with a death wish that would have the guts to mate and claim you? No. Do I think you two are only going to kiss and hold hands? No. Do I care? Not really. I’ve abandoned hope. If you want to be with the boy, be with him. I’ll support you. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.” He points a finger at me. “I’m just saying, no funny business is going to be happening under my roof. Go do it at Michael’s place. Make him deal with the two of you.”

I laugh. “Okay.” 

“Great. Good talk.”

“Yeah.” I peek up at him, one more question on my mind. “So, whatever happened between dad and Michael, and whoever my other dad-”

“He’s not your other dad. He was a poor excuse of a sperm donor.” The amount of anger in Uncle Bobby’s voice catches me by surprise, making my heart skip. I sit back in my seat and tighten my hold on my coffee mug to keep my hands from shaking. 

“I’m sorry.”

Uncle Bobby sighs, running a hand down his face. “No, I am. I’m sorry for - I’m sorry. Finish your question, kid.”

“No, it’s okay.” I push to my feet, turning towards the sink. “I should get ready for school.”

“Dean, go ahead. I won’t yell at you.”

I pour the remainder of my coffee out and turn the sink on to wash the liquid down. When it’s all gone, I shut the water off and ask with my back still turned, “Whatever happened with my dad and… that other person. Is that why you and Michael are no longer friends?”

When Uncle Bobby doesn’t answer right away, I turn to look at him. He’s watching me as if he’s trying to figure me out. As if I’m the one who holds all of the information instead of him. 

Finally, he sits back in his chair and nods. “Yes. It’s more complicated than that, but yes.”

“Okay.” I give him a smile. “I’m gonna go get ready for school.”

“Are you going to take a coffee in for your boy?”

Feeling my cheeks go red, I inform him, “He left already. To get ready too.”

“Ah. I see. Well, have a good day then lover boy. Don’t forget I need you at the shop after school, okay? You promised to help set up that damn computer program for me.”

I wave a hand in the air to show him I’m acknowledging him as I walk down the hall. “Okay!” 

When I get back into my bedroom, I very quietly close my door and lock it. I press my back against it and look at Castiel lounging on my bed with a sexy smirk on his face. “How dare you lie? He offered me coffee.”

“You shouldn’t eavesdrop, wolfboy. It’s not polite.”

“You shouldn’t lie, my almost Dean. It’s not polite.”

After a glance behind my shoulder like Uncle Bobby could miraculously be standing there, I tiptoe over to the bed and climb onto it. He reaches for me with one arm and easily pulls me on top of him so I’m straddling his lap, my hands falling on his chest to hold me up. 

“In my defense,” I whisper. “I didn’t know if you would still be here or not. I thought maybe you’d wake up while I was gone and head home.”

“And not get a good morning kiss?” He scoffs, a smile twisting his lips into his cheek as he tries to fight it. “No chance.”

“Did you hear all of it?” 

His expression goes serious, and I know he did. At least the important stuff. The heavier stuff. “I woke up to you closing your bedroom door, so yes.”

“Oh.” I run my hands along his bare chest, proud of them for not shaking. “Do you know? Who my… _poor excuse of a sperm donor_ is?”

He tightens his hold on my hips. “I don’t.”

Something similar to acid burns along our thread. I somehow understand what it means. “You just lied to me.”

“Huh?”

“You lied. Just now. You know who he is.”

“I-” he stops. Then he chuckles, shaking his head. “Damn. This thread thing can really bite ya in the ass…”

“ _Cas_.”

“Please don’t ask me to tell you, Dean. Bobby really wants it to be from him.”

With a frown, I nod. “Okay. I’ll respect that, yeah.”

“How do you feel about our new rule?” he asks with a teasing eyebrow that makes me smile. “Ready to cuddle wolfy me at night?”

“Maybe he’ll be more comfortable than human you,” I tease back. “You hog the blankets and move way too much.”

He drops his jaw, scandalized. “I’ve never had any complaints before!”

“Oh? And who else have you been sharing beds with, Cas?”

“You!” He flips us over in one move, a hand covering my mouth just before I cry out in surprise. His grin is electric as he stares down at me with his beautiful bright blue eyes. “You were perfectly happy in my bed if I recall.”

“Bigger bed,” I point out. “And _way_ more blankets.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“Dean!” Uncle Bobby yells from down the hall. 

Castiel and I share a wide eyed look as we both grin at each other. I put a finger to my lips to shush him before calling, “Yes?”

“You’re going to be late!” 

“Sorry! One minute!” I look at Castiel with narrowed eyes and a pretend scowl. “You’re a bad influence. Go away so I can get ready for school.”

“Fine. But only because I’ll get to see you there.”

“So possessive. I’m not yours, remember?”

“Not mine yet.” He leans down and runs his nose along mine. “Eventually, though. And I’m a patient guy.”

Our thread hums with a peacefulness I’ve never felt. He must feel it too because he releases a breathy sigh and smiles. 

“You owe me a good morning kiss,” he whispers after a few more seconds of us staying silent and appreciating our thread. 

“Take it then.”

His grin turns wolfish, his eyes going brighter. “Don’t mind if I do.”

The kiss is surprisingly chaste. Soft. Quick. He pulls away, leaving me wanting more, and heads to my window. With a wink, he says, “See you soon, my almost Dean,” and pushes the window open. I watch him slide through it, then get off the bed to look outside just in time to see him transform mid jump into his black wolf. 

I've never felt happier. 

  
  


**Castiel**

Going back to school after spending the night with Dean is harder than I expected it to be. For some reason, I had it pictured in my mind that we’d suddenly be a couple. We’d be kissing in the halls and holding hands. We’d be _together_. 

In reality, I show up at school and find Benny at Dean’s locker, the two of them standing far too close together for my liking. I stand at my locker pretending to be digging in my backpack, eavesdropping on the conversation even though I know I shouldn’t be. Benny is going on and on like some idiot. He mentions Friday’s football game, and that Dean could wear his jersey again, if he wanted. Dean gets all flustered, and I can hear his heart racing despite the din of the hallway. 

I grab my books for first period and slam my locker shut, heading straight to Dean. He must be able to sense me because his head snaps up to look in my direction before I’ve even reached him. 

“Benny,” I growl, pressing my body between his and Dean’s despite his reluctance to move. Ignoring him, I give Dean the smile I’ve learned makes his heart race. “Hey, you.”

“Hey.” Dean looks at Benny, then me, then Benny. His cheeks go red. “Um… I was just talking to Benny about the football game Friday.”

“It’s our rival game,” Benny adds, looking at Dean like he hung the fucking moon. Which, like, he _did_ , but he hung it for _me_ , so Benny should really back the fuck off. 

Trying to act civilized, for Dean’s benefit, not Benny’s, I force a smile. “That’d be fun. It’s an away game, right?”

“Yeah. Benny said - he said I could ride with-”

“Me,” I finish. “You can ride with me.”

“You don’t go to away games,” Benny says with a scoff. 

“Well, if Dean wants to go, then I’m going, and I’m driving him.”

Dean looks at the two of us again. All I want to do is pull him into my arms and tell Benny that he’s mine. There are two problems with that, though. First, I don’t know if Dean even is mine. Second, I doubt Dean would appreciate me going caveman-wolf boy treating him like my property. He’s far too stubborn and independent, as I’ve learned. 

Point in case, Dean gives me a dirty look and says very pointedly, “If Dean wants to go, he’ll go. And he’ll drive with whoever he wants to drive with.”

“Of course.” Benny gives him a stupid placating smile. “Do you think you’ll want my jersey? I can bring it tomorrow.”

“It’s supposed to be cold this weekend. I think it’s better if he wears a sweater.”

“He can wear a sweater under my jersey.”

“Or he could just not wear your jersey.”

“Or-”

“ _Or_ ,” Dean says loudly before slamming his locker shut. “Dean will go to the game if he _wants_ , and wear whatever he _wants_ , and ride with whoever he _wants_ \- and he’ll just let the two of you know what he decides, since it’s _his_ life and all.”

Without another word, Dean walks away. 

_Shit_. 

\---- 

**_My (still almost… hopefully) Dean_ **

**_I’m a dick._ **

**_A jealous asshole._ **

**_I saw Benny talking to you and just sort of went into crazy mode…_ **

**_You are more than capable of making your own choices and I’m aware I have no say in them._ **

**_Hell, I don’t even know if we’re dating._ **

**_Not that us dating would mean I have a say in anything you do..._ **

**_What is it we’re doing together?_ **

**_What are we?_ **

**_Are you going to… date him?_ **

**_Are you going to wear his jersey?_ **

**_Are you going to see other people?_ **

**_Are we together?_ **

**_Did last night change anything?_ **

**_Do you hate me for being a jealous asshole?_ **

  * **_Yours (already), jealous-asshole-wolfboy-who’d-give-anything-to-be-your-boyfriend_**



I read the note three times in a row, frowning at it. 

I sound like an idiot. 

I don’t care. 

Walking down the hall like a kicked puppy with his tail between his legs, I slip the note in Dean’s locker and hope for the best. 

  
  


\---- 

**_My (already) jealous-asshole-wolfboy-who-I-forgive-and-sort-of-want-to-be-my-boyfriend,_ **

**_You are a dick, and a jealous asshole._ **

**_I’d be one too if I kept seeing a guy hanging around you…_ **

**_Yeah… I don’t like that thought._ **

**_Like at all._ **

**_No boys around you._ **

**_I guess that means we’re exclusive then? I think I’d like that._ **

**_Is that okay?_ **

**_Do you want to be exclusive?_ **

**_That’s boyfriends, right?_ **

**_I would like that. To be boyfriends._ **

**_Which means no, I don’t plan on dating Benny._ **

**_If it bothers you - as my boyfriend… if you are my boyfriend - then no, I won’t wear his jersey._ **

**_Boyfriends means exclusive, so… no. No other people, just us together._ **

**_If that’s what you want._ **

**_Because last night changed everything for me, Cas._ **

**_You’ve changed everything._ **

**_In a way that I’m surprisingly thinking might be good._ **

**_I don’t hate you for being a jealous asshole._ **

**_I don’t think I could hate you… ever._ **

  * **_Yours (if you’ll have me), Dean_**



\---- 

**_My (fucking finally, yes I’ll have you, what a silly question sweetheart), Dean_ **

**_We can be jealous asshole dicks together then._ **

**_And boyfriends._ **

**_Definitely boyfriends._ **

**_Exclusive, happy, I’m struggling to stay sitting in my seat right now, boyfriends._ **

**_I already love it._ **

**_I don't want to be possessive or controlling, but the jersey hurts my wolf._ **

**_Benny's scent on you burns._ **

**_Please don't wear it..._ **

**_You changed everything too._ **

**_In a good way for me._ **

**_In the best fucking way._ **

**_-Yours (always), Cas_ **

  
  


\---- 

My dad is relaxing on the porch swing when I get home from school, drinking a beer and grinning at me like he has a secret. I pause on the top step and give him a look. “What?”

“What?” 

“Why do you look like that?” I ask.

His grin widens. “You and Dean are together.”

Groaning, I drop my backpack and go sit next to him on the porch swing. “Have I mentioned how unfair it is that you have these stupid alpha powers to spy on us.”

“I don’t _spy_ on you. I can just get more than basic emotions from your threads.” He elbows me. “And don’t complain. When you take my place as alpha, you’re going to love the extra ‘stupid alpha powers’.”

“True.”

“Do I get the steamy details?”

“Steamy details? Really dad?” I groan, covering my face with a hand. “Could you be more dorky?”

He chuckles. “Sorry. I forget I’m no longer hip.”

“ _Hip_?” 

“Yeah. Ya know. _Hip_. Rad.” He makes an upside down peace sign. “I’m lit.”

“This is over. Officially done with this conversation.” 

I start to stand up, but he grabs my wrist and tugs me back down, his laughter loud and booming in the air around us. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. But you guys did get together, right?”

“Right. How does that work? What exactly did you feel in my thread?”

“I didn’t.” My dad shifts on the bench, smiling again. This one is genuine, though. Serious. “I have a thread with him now.”

“What?” 

“Dean and I. We have a thread.”

“But…” I stop myself, shaking my head. That’s impossible. Omegas don’t create pack threads until they’re part of the pack. Since Dean wasn’t the child of any pack members, he won’t be considered a part of us until him and I mate. At least, that’s _supposed_ to be the rule… “Dean isn’t pack.”

“Apparently he is.”

“But we haven’t mated.”

My dad laughs softly. “Obviously, son.”

“Then… _how_?”

“Apparently, just like with you smelling him before he had even presented, the two of you defy the rules.” 

I sit back, unable to stop the giddy grin that pulls at my lips. 

“Sooo,” dad prompts. “Details?”

I roll my eyes. “Fine, but none of them will be steamy.”

“Oh, darn.”

“Well you know I’ve been staying outside his place?” My dad nods. “With the storm last night, he let me in. We talked and… made up. We’ve been passing notes and today we officially got back together in one of them.”

“In one of your notes?” 

“Yeah.”

My dad smirks. “How adorable.”

“Shut up.” I sit back on the swing, savoring the way my thread between me and my dad is thrumming with comfort and joy. He sits back as well, pressing against me as he pushes off with the toe of his shoe to make the swing move. “I think I’m in love with him, dad. Not just the true mates thing, but Dean too, ya know? The person he is. He’s kind of amazing.”

“That makes me very happy, son.”

Feeling myself blush, something very rare for me, I tuck my chin to my chest and say nothing. 

“Are you still planning to bring him on that fancy date this Saturday?”

“Yeah. At least I think so. I’ll double check, but I hope so.”

“Good. I think that’ll be good for the two of you.” 

“I do too.” I take a chance and look at him again. “So, Bobby caught us this morning. Sort of. He didn’t _catch us_ catch us, but he told Dean he could hear us.”

My dad tosses his head back, barking a laugh that sounds a lot like his wolf. His eyes are sparkling when he looks at me. He’s breathless when he asks, “Wait - did he say you have to be a wolf in his room?”

I smirk. “Yes. Apparently you have experience with that rule?”

“Yes.” My dad chuckles again, shaking his head. Then his eyes go distant, his grin sliding down into a fond, but sad, smile. “That was our rule. Mine and John’s.” 

“Yeah… he mentioned that.”

The two of us fall into a silence for a while. Surprisingly, it’s my dad who speaks first. Even more surprisingly, it’s about Dean’s dad. “John liked sleeping with me as a wolf, though. I’m sure Dean will too. Apparently we’re like a fluffy, warm body pillow.”

“Fluffy, warm body pillows are pretty great.” I take a deep breath and take a chance. “Bobby mentioned Dean’s other dad this morning. Well, that wasn’t the word he used. He called him his ‘poor excuse of a sperm donor’ actually.”

“Mmmm.” 

Since that’s not much to go on, I push further. “I didn’t know you had an alpha...like before this. You made it sound like this was our family’s territory and all that. Made it sound like you and uncle Luke inherited it. But Bobby made it sound like you weren’t related to the alpha at all. That he was just kind of like your surrogate father or whatever.”

“He said that?” my dad practically growls. “He called him that? My surrogate _father_?”

“I - no. Not in those words, I don’t think. I don’t -” 

“Did he explain to Dean who his - his poor excuse of a sperm donor is?” 

“No.”

“Then why the fuck was he talking about the alpha?” 

I shudder at the roar in my dad’s voice. It’s brimming with alpha power, making me want to get on my knees and bare my neck in submission. It feels as if the breath is taken from my lungs. I have no fucking idea how I manage to croak out, “It wasn’t to Dean. He - I mean, I think he might of mentioned him to Dean. I can’t remember. But he spoke to me the other night about… everything that happened. That’s when he said the alpha was sort of like your parent. I don’t remember how he said it.”

“So you know, then?”

“About what happened to John? And… how Dean was created?” My dad squeezes his eyes shut and nods. “Yeah. He told me. He hasn’t told Dean yet, though.”

“I couldn’t keep him safe.”

“Dad-”

“I’m going to go see if your mother needs help in the garden.” 

I look over at the garden. Mom isn’t there. “Okay.”

“I’m happy for you and Dean.” He takes a deep breath and turns halfway to look at me. So many emotions are warring in his expression that it must be painful. “He’s welcome here any time. I won’t even make you be in wolf form.”

I force a laugh. “Okay. Thanks.”

My dad pauses, not walking away like I thought he would. He takes a deep breath and nods once. Then, "I thought losing John was the end of the world. Your mother… she was something special. Patient and kind. Understanding. I never told you this, but we had you before we mated. You weren't an accident, but I just - I couldn't wrap my mind around being someone else's mate. Any time I pictured biting her it had _burned_." 

I hold my breath to keep from bursting out with questions, not wanting to scare him off. I can hear his frantic heart beating in his chest. It matches my own. 

"It happened slowly, with your mother. I healed. She filled in some of my cracks, but was willing to let some of them stay full of John too. We mated when I was ready. She waited, and I am so very lucky that she did so. I love your mother very much, Castiel. I don't want you to ever think otherwise. She wasn't John, she wasn't my true mate, but she was her own thing to me, and I'm grateful to have her." My dad gives me a smile. A fragile thing. "I think maybe things worked out for the best. John got away. Got free. He got Dean, who I'm sure he loved more than anything. I found your mother. I got you and Anna. I got this pack. And now, a generation later, a Novak wolf has found his way to a Winchester. It's a beautiful poetry, how life works. Isn't it?"

I have to cough after trying to swallow, choking on a lump of emotions. "Yeah dad. Yeah, it is." 

  
  



	13. Chapter 13

**Dean**

This whole small-town teenager thing is officially awesome. I have a boyfriend. I have a friend group. I went on a 40-minute road trip with said friend group since the football game is an away game. I sang along with the stereo to Taylor Swift, giggling with Charlie and Anna while Jack and Castiel groaned and pouted. 

I’m the kind of person who watches football now - though I have to ask Castiel every few minutes what the hell is going on, and then pretend to understand his explanation. There’s hot chocolate and popcorn and a dance team at half-time that’s surprisingly talented. It’s cold, but not too cold. The perfect sweater weather. The trees are changing colors. The stadium lights add this soft glow to everything. 

Riding a high, I head to the concession stand near the end of the 3rd… period? Quarter?... 3rd _whatever_. Castiel teases me, calling me a hot chocolate addict. I tell him I’m not getting him a hot chocolate because he’s rude, though I do intend on actually buying him one anyway. 

I’m still smiling to myself when someone behind me in the concession’s line speaks to me. “Well, hello there.”

“Oh.” I turn sideways to look at the person. He’s a guy about my age. Maybe a few years older. Wiry and gaunt. Creepy looking, if I'm being honest. “Hello.”

“Do you go to school here?” 

“No. Lebanon.” I gesture towards the field. “You?”

“I graduated from one of the towns nearby. My cousin is playing tonight.” 

“Gotcha.”

“Mhm.” He steps closer to me, his nostrils flaring. “So, what’s your name?”

Glancing at the line in front of me, I say, “Dean.”

“ _Dean_. Nice to meet you, Dean.” He offers me his hand. “I’m Alastair.”

I take his hand, his bare skin much warmer than mine. Something pools in my stomach. A warmth. Then a shiver as a particularly hard gust of wind passes by us. I drop his hand and curl my arms around my waist with a laugh. “It’s colder here than I expected.”

“Lebanon isn’t too far away. Can’t be too much of a weather change.”

“I’m from New York. I just moved here a few weeks ago.” I shrug. “For some reason, moving out west in my mind meant deserts and the hot sun.”

“Afraid not. Just a whole lot of trees and cold, at least in autumn.”

I glance at the line again. It’s moving way too slow for my liking. Partly because it’s freezing, and partly because I suck at small talk. 

“Well, do you like it here, minus the cold?”

“I do, actually. It’s nice. I like the fresh air. And the night sky. I could stare at the stars for hours.”

“And the moon?” he asks with a grin. 

“Yeah, the moon too.”

“It’s going to be full soon, you know.”

I look up at the sky. The stadium lights block out most of the stars, but a few of them, along with the moon, are big and bright enough to be visible despite the light pollution. “I hadn’t realized. I don’t pay much attention.”

“No? Full moon isn’t on your radar?”

“Not really.”

His eyes move as if he’s searching for something on my face, his nostrils flaring. “ _Interesting_ ,” he says after a few more seconds pass by. 

“I guess so…”

“You look freezing.” He frowns. “Let me get my jacket from my car. It’s just parked right here. You can borrow it.”

“Oh, really. I’ll be fine.” I gesture to the concession stand, thankful to notice that there’s only one person ahead of me now. “I’m getting hot chocolate. And I’ll be warmer up in the bleachers with my friends by me.”

“Mmm.” 

“Thanks though.”

“Sure. No problem.” He looks over my shoulder, then gives me a small smile. “Your turn.”

“Oh. Thanks!” I turn around and stumble through my order to the girl working the stand, feeling jittery and exposed for some reason. Even though I know it’s crazy, I swear I can feel Alastair right up against me, his breath on my neck. My heart starts to pound as every second ticks by. 

A hand touches the small of my back, making me jump. I turn around and look up at Alastair in confusion. He just smiles. It's wide and toothy. “Do I make you nervous?” 

“I - no.” I face the concession stand again, no longer interested in this strange man. I don’t know if he’s flirting or just friendly or what, but he’s starting to give me the creeps. 

When the two hot chocolates are put on the counter, I give the girl the money and tell her to keep the change. Then I grab the two Styrofoam cups and hurry off. 

I wait until I’m near the bottom of the bleachers before glancing back. Alastair is leaning against the counter, giving the girl the same smile he had just been giving me. The tight worry in my gut unravels as I see evidence that he’s just an overly friendly man. By the time I’m back to my seat, Castiel grinning at me for buying him hot chocolate, I’ve already forgotten all about him. 

  
  
  


\----

  
  


“That’s it,” I grumble, flopping down on the edge of my bed and falling backwards. “I’m not going.”

When nothing happens, I get up and walk to my bedroom door, yanking it open. I yell towards the living room, “I’m not going!”

Uncle Bobby’s laugh is loud and booming. I stomp back to my bed and fall back on it, knowing he’ll come. 

Sure enough, just a few seconds later, he’s leaning on my door frame and smirking. I glare at him. “I’m not going.”

“What happened to your bedroom?” he asks, ignoring me as he takes in all of the clothes tossed in every direction. “Did you let a wolf in or something? It’s as if a wild animal got loose.”

I roll my eyes. “So not in the mood for corny dad jokes, Uncle Bobby.”

“So not in the mood for you pulling a teenage drama queen moment, nephew Dean.”

“I’m not going.”

“He’ll be here any minute, and I’m going to let him in no matter what you say or do, so you better get dressed.” 

I push myself back up, sitting on the edge of the bed and glaring at the random clothes by my feet. “I have nothing to wear.”

“I’m seeing much more than nothing.”

“I don’t know _what_ to wear.”

“Well, you’re just going out to eat. It’s not fashion week. Pick something nice but comfortable.”

“ _Nice but comfortable,_ he says,” I grumble. “Nice but comfortable. Like it’s so easy!”

Uncle Bobby starts to collect my clothes for me, chuckling. “What would you wear if you were going out with your friends for a night on the town.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because New York is… New York.”

He snorts a laugh. “What does that mean?”

“I dunno. You can get away with so much in New York. Here… here everyone wears flannels and hoodies and henleys and all that kind of stuff.”

“Ahhh.” He sits down beside me. “And by everyone, you mean the _guys_.”

“Yeah.”

“You wore that pink sweater the other night.”

“Yeah, but not to school.”

“You wear other sweaters to school. Wear one of those if you feel more comfortable. Though, Castiel saw you in the pink, did he not?”

I shrug. “Yeah, but it’s not just Cas at the restaurant.”

“Cas is the only person who matters.” He squeezes my knee. “And if anyone gave you a hard time about wearing whatever it is you end up wearing, I’m pretty sure your werewolf boyfriend will deal with them.”

This gets me to smile. “True.”

“Pick out an outfit you would wear if you were going out for your first date with Cas in New York.”

“I… can try to do that.” 

“I have faith. I’ll be back on the couch, where I’ve been for the past 40 outfits you’ve shown me.”

“That’s slightly dramatic.” 

“Well, I was under the impression that we were being dramatic today.” 

I roll my eyes and shut the door on him, turning back to my room and looking it over. 

When I finally land on what I think is a good outfit - something I love, isn’t ridiculously flashy, and makes me feel sexy but comfortable - I head out into the living room to show Uncle Bobby. I’m practically skipping. That’s why I’m caught completely by surprise when, mid-skip, I see Castiel standing in the entryway with Uncle Bobby, the two of them chatting. 

I realize two things at once. 

One, my boyfriend is fucking _gorgeous_. His long legs are covered in a dark denim, his large, broad upper body displaying a faded grey, blue, and red flannel with a leather jacket I’ve never seen before - but have decided already that I’m obsessed with - over the top of it, and his feet in worker boots that somehow look fashionable at the same time. His unruly black curls are worse than usual, which makes me think he tried to tame them and ended up just making them angry. And when he looks at me, his blue eyes lighting up, his white teeth flashing in a gorgeous smile, he leaves me breathless. “Hey, beautiful,” he whispers as he clearly takes me in like I’m doing to him.

Two, I’m pretty damn sure I’m hopelessly in love with Castiel Novak. 

  
  
  


**Castiel**

God damn he’s fucking _beautiful_. He’s wearing maroon colored skinny jeans that hug his ass perfectly - something I take advantage of every chance I get by opening doors for him and ushering him in front of me to walk first. His white shirt with thin black stripes is beneath a chunky knitted honey colored sweater that hangs open, the sleeves rolled to the middle of his forearms. His shoes are cheetah print little booties that I’m pretty sure I could spend the rest of my life watching him walk in. 

I’m still marveling over how amazing Dean is, and how lucky I am, when we’re seated at the table I reserved for us at the nicest Italian restaurant in the area. Dean looks up at me through his lashes and blushes. He’s been doing that a lot tonight. 

“What do you keep looking at?” Dean asks. 

“You.”

“Cheesy,” Dean teases, his blush deepening in color. He ducks his head behind the menu. “What do you think you’re going to eat?”

_You, preferably._

“They have really good chicken alfredo," I say instead. 

“Oooo. It’s been a long time since I’ve had that.” Dean lowers the menu enough for me to catch a glimpse of him nibbling on his bottom lip. I wonder if we’d get kicked out if I leaned over and bit it for him. 

Probably. 

“Spaghetti and meatballs is my favorite, though…” Dean adds with an adorable frown. 

“I can get one and you can get the other. Then we can share.” 

Dean perks up, beaming. “Really?”

“Of course.”

“Cool.” He puts his menu down all together, looking me in the eyes. There’s a moment where he’s calm and just looking at me. Then his nerves kick in and that adorable blush is back. “Um… hi.”

I chuckle. “Hey, Dean.”

“So… I’m pretty sure we agreed to exchange favorite colors.”

“Ah. Yes. Favorite colors and bitching about homework, right?”

“Right.”

“Alright then. Dean,” I put my elbow on the table and rest my chin on my fist, smirking. “What’s your favorite color?”

He laughs softly. When I pay attention, I hear that his heartbeat is slowing down. His nerves are fading. It makes me smile.

“My favorite color is purple.” Dean bites his bottom lip and blushes a little again. “But the color blue is… growing on me.”

“Is that so?” I grin. “Any particular reason?”

“Hmmmm. Well, I think it’s because of this really _adorable_ wolf I saw in the woods one day. Really pretty bright blue eyes. Did I mention how _cute_ the wolf was? So _cute_. Cuddly. _Adorable_.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I’ve heard. Yes. _Cute_ wolf.” 

“Are we going to have one of those _Lady and the Tramp_ moments?” he teases. “Is my cute little pup going to share his spaghetti and meatballs? Maybe nudge the meatball over with his nose? Share a long noodle until we kiss?”

Suddenly confused, I ask, “What in the world are you talking about?”

Dean’s jaw drops. “You’ve never seen _Lady and the Tramp_? The Disney movie? Cartoon? Cute dogs? Italian restaurant?”

“Uh… no. Can’t say I have.”

“Oh my god. We have to watch it immediately. Like tonight. I’m sleeping over. It's been decided.”

I smile at his adorable enthusiasm, nodding. “Sure. Disney movie about dogs eating in an Italian restaurant. Why not?”

“I like your attitude.” Dean pauses mid-laugh, his eyes locking on something over my shoulder. His smile freezes before melting into a look of confusion and… fear? Our thread vibrates with anxiety hard enough to make it echo in my chest. 

Turning to look over my shoulder, I ask, “What? What is it?”

“Those guys. Well, that guy. The one in the black shirt. He was at the football game.”

“The football game? Last night?”

“Yeah. He… talked to me. Creeped me out a little.” He forces a laugh just as my eyes finally find the person he’s talking about. “It’s probably-”

“Stay here,” I growl, shoving out of my seat. It takes everything in me not to shift right there in the restaurant and lunge at the son of a bitch. Somehow, I manage to hold on and keep it together. At least _somewhat_ together. My claws pop, cutting my palms, and my voice is growly and dangerous as I step up to Alastair, ignoring the idiot beta Azazel beside him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Oh lookie, Az. It’s a Novak wolf.”

“Definitely a Novak. Smells like…” Azazel inhales dramatically, then grins. His fangs are out. I let mine drop immediately. “ _Weakness_.”

I cock my head. “Funny. All I can smell is the blood I plan on clawing out of you two.” 

“Funny,” Allistair says in a drawl. “All I can smell is pretty little omega.”

An overwhelming rage that steals my breath surges through my body. I hear in the distance a glass breaking. I know without looking that it’s Dean. My emotions probably took him by surprise. I can feel his fear radiating through our thread, so I cut it off and focus on the two men in front of me. 

“The two of you will leave. Now. Immediately. Before I rip your throats out with my fucking teeth.”

“Sure. We’ll leave.”

“Not like it matters,” Azazel adds. “We have him now. Al had said he smelled an unmated male omega that’s nice and fresh and just begging to be bred, but I hadn’t believed him. I owe him 20 bucks. And he gets to fuck your omega first.”

A growl rips its way through my throat as my body leans forward on instinct. I have to force myself stumbling back to keep from lunging for them. They’re trying to rile me up. I won’t let them. Not while Dean is here. 

Dean is what matters. 

I have to get Dean somewhere safe. 

Right. Fucking. Now. 

I back away from the men, making sure to keep my eyes on them, until last second when I reach my table with Dean. 

Except Dean isn’t there. 

He’s not fucking _there_. 

“Excuse me?” I ask the waiter cleaning up the broken glass on our table, my eyes scanning the restaurant frantically. 

“Yes?”

“The young man sitting here with me - the one who broke the glass. Did you see where he went?”

The waiter nods, not even looking at me. I can’t blame him. He’s cleaning up our mess. “He left with that friend of his. They went out the front door.” Then he glares at me. “You still have to pay the bill.”

“Sure. Fine. Whatever.” I pull my wallet out, blindly grabbing a handful of bills and tossing them on the table. It’s way more than our meal would have been but I really don’t care. “What’d his friend look like?”

“I don’t know?” The waiter stands up and sighs in exasperation. “He looked like you. Tall. Big. I don’t think your friend felt well. He seemed to be a little out of it. But your other friend was helping him.”

_Fuck_.

I had muted our thread. He felt fear. I thought it was an echo of my own. I fucking _ignored_ him and now… now he's… 

_Fuck_.

I run out of the restaurant as realization dawns, trying to get a grasp on Dean and I’s thread once more. There’s nothing to hold on to. Barely even a whisper between us. How the hell did this happen? How did I let myself get distracted enough not to notice his emotions? Had he been scared? Angry? Why did he look like he didn’t feel good? Did they drug him? Threaten him? Hurt him?

In a panic, I grab the ends of all my other threads from my pack and yank at them until they’re singing with the same emotions as me. My dad comes through the loudest, singing me home. I’ve never ran faster. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Dean**

I wake up slowly, my body heavy and sluggish. Wherever I am is… dark. Cold. I start to bring a hand to my face, wanting to rub at my eyes so I can see better, but something stops me. The sound of chains clinking fills the air. What the hell? What’s going on? Where am I?

“C-” I pause when my voice catches, clearing my throat before trying again. “Cas?”

_Silence_. 

“Cas? Hello?”

_Nothing_. 

Panic wells up in my chest, making me tremble. I try to find the last thing I can remember. There was trying on clothes with Uncle Bobby. For… a date. A date with Cas. We went to a restaurant. He’s never seen _Lady and the Tramp_. Then - then those guys showed up. One of them the same creep from the football game. Castiel got mad. So mad. _Outraged_. 

And then something clamped down on the back of my neck, squeezing in a way that made my body go limp. My brain had gone fuzzy. 

I don’t remember anything after that… 

I try to move my body some more. It’s not just my wrists that are immobilized. It’s my ankles and thighs too. I’m strapped down to something. Whatever it is forces my body to be in a slightly curled up position, almost like I’m on my hands and knees even though I’m not on the floor. It’s disorienting. Everything about this is disorienting… 

It’s just as a bright light is flipped on, making me flinch and squeeze my eyes shut, that I realize one final thing. I’m naked. 

_Oh god, I’m naked._

“Hey there, pretty thing,” a low voice says from behind me. I jerk when a hand touches my naked ass cheek. It makes the person laugh, the sound dark and awful. “Don’t be afraid little omega. I know you’re confused. No one was helping you. No one taught you your place. We’ll take care of you, though. We’ll help you be a good little omega for us. You can just shut your tiny brain off and stop trying to even think. Just let the men handle things.”

I’m pretty sure I growl. 

“Fuck you! Let me go. _Now_.”

Now two people are laughing. No, not people. Men. _Wolves_. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. I can smell that they’re wolves. They smell almost exactly like Castiel’s family smells, though sharper somehow. Like even their scent is dangerous. 

Someone touches my ass cheek again, stroking me. I try to buck away but I’m held down too well. The other man walks around to the front so I can see his face. It’s Alastair. The creep from the football game. He’s here. He has me. Naked. Tied down. He’s a wolf. I’m an omega. 

_Oh, god._

_Oh god, please, no._

_Cas, where are you?_

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to find the thread between us. It’s too thin. Frayed. Because of me. It’s my fault. I was so damn stubborn. I ruined everything. Now, I can barely feel him. It’s like he’s nothing but a ghost in my mind. If the thread feels that way for me, it might feel that way for him too. How will he find me if our thread is too damaged? 

“Just let me go,” I whisper, my terror overruling any fight I have left. 

“You’re right where you belong now, little omega,” Alastair coos. “The Novak’s don’t know how to take care of their omegas. They don’t deserve you. Not after what they let happen to your daddy.”

My stomach twists. No one has fully told me what happened to my dad, but I’ve been able to gather enough to figure it out myself. “My dad was raped.”

“Because his mate couldn’t protect him.”

“And now you’re - you - you’re gonna…” _rape me._ I can’t say it. 

“Your mate let you down. He failed at protecting you, just as his father failed your daddy. But you’re going to be just fine, pretty omega. We have you now.”

“You’re going to rape me,” I growl, some of my fight returning. “I’m not going to be _fine_! You’re gonna _rape_ me!”

Alastair laughs softly. Then whoever is behind me speaks, his hands spreading my cheeks apart to expose my hole. “We’re going to make you ours, omega. You’ll be the Demon pack’s omega. We’ll all use you. We’ll protect you. You’ll give us nice, strong, healthy pups.”

“No!”

“Yes.” A thumb presses against my hole. I jerk, trying to get away from it. I’m dry back there and don’t want a single thing entering me, not only because of the whole rape thing, but also because it’ll fucking _hurt_. 

“You can’t protect me and rape me!” I argue. 

They both laugh. Then a hand is grabbing the back of my neck, and another hand is reaching down to rub the stretch of smooth skin between my balls and my hole, and my body is going lax without my permission. I whimper when I feel the first rush of slick pouring out of my hole. My eyes start to water. 

“Our old alpha went about things wrong. He thought if he let Michael mate your daddy, then your daddy would become pack property. When he realized Michael didn’t plan on sharing, he rushed into things. He didn’t _plan_. He took your daddy and used him, and started a war because of it. A war that lost us our territory. A war that lost us a significant amount of power. A war that lost us your daddy. That lost us _you_.” The man's words pause as he growls. I feel pulses of rage coming from him through a thread, and the air catches in my lungs as I realize that a fucking _thread_ is forming between us. It's dark and acrid, making me burn and ache, but it's _there_. It _exists_. 

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no._

“Michael may have murdered our alpha and formed his own pack, but we’re still strong. Our father was the alpha’s second. He’s a good alpha. Better than the one before. And now with our own pack omega, we’ll be stronger than the Novaks. We’ll take over.” 

“Please don’t hurt me,” I whisper, barely registering the words they’re saying. “Please. Please don’t rape me.”

“Oh, little omega, calm down,” Alastair murmurs. 

A finger starts to press against my now slick hole, making me feel the need to curl up like a bug. I try to pucker my hole as tight as I can to keep everything out. 

“Shhh,” the other man says. “We aren’t going to hurt you. We’ll take very good care of you, omega. Of course we will. You’ll be so very important to us.”

“And we aren’t raping you, pretty thing,” Alastair adds. “We’re using you for what you’re meant for. We’re _helping_ you. You _need_ this. The Novaks don’t understand that. _Castiel_ doesn’t understand that. Look at how easy it was for us to take you away! He couldn’t protect you. He put you in danger. We’ll never do that.”

“He took me on a date!” I argue. “You people are fucking crazy.”

“A date.” Alastair tosses his head back in an obnoxious laugh. “Oh god, taking an _omega_ on a date. How adorably Novak-like.”

“You’re not meant for dates, omega,” the other man says with a harder than necessary smack to my ass cheek. “You’re meant to be _bred_. You’ll give us pups. Take care of our pups. Keep us satisfied. You don’t need a mate. That’s silly. Omegas can’t be in love. You’re not built for it.”

I can’t decide if I’m more terrified or outraged. Part of me wants to start a fucking omega rights rally, and the other part of me wants to scream and sob for help. 

A door opens, making me lock up as I realize it’s probably not just these two that plan to hurt me. There’s a whole pack. 

“Crowley is calling a pack meeting. Leave the omega whore alone. I’ll come water and feed it later.”

I clamp down on my bottom lip to keep from making noise as I fall into a fit of tears. This is going to be my life now. I’m going to be called a whore. Called “it”. I’m something they'll “come water and feed” like a farm animal. And they’re going to rape me, and it’s not even going to be considered rape, because that’s just… my life now. 

The lights turn off and the door slams shut. 

Resting my cheek against the weird bench thing they’ve bound me to, I finally let my sobs free. As the grief and fear runs through me in violent waves, I grab frantically at my thread with Castiel, holding on with all of my strength and praying it’ll be enough. 

_Please come save me Cas_ , I beg through the thread. _Please hurry. Please, please, please._

  
  
  
  


**Castiel**

After our third run between our territory and the Demon territory, Jack, Gabe, and I finally go home and shift back to human. We yank on sweats and shirts as we hurry into the house. Not that there’s much of a hurry to get inside. We can hear exactly what’s going on in the house anyway. Even if we weren’t wolves, we’d be able to easily hear the yelling. 

“Looks like Bobby arrived,” Gabe grumbles. 

“Maybe you should stay outside for a minute.” Jack gives me a nervous look. “What if he brought his gun?”

“Maybe I deserve it.” 

Before either of them can argue with me, I push past them and enter the house. I mute most of my senses to keep from drowning in the thick emotions filling the house, particularly the overwhelming grief and rage pouring off of Bobby. I’m feeling enough of those things on my own. 

Bobby sets eyes on me within seconds. He shoves away from my father and storms over to me, grabbing the front of my shirt and slamming me up against the wall. It doesn’t hurt enough. I want him to hurt me. To destroy me like I know the Demons are probably destroying Dean. 

“I told you what would happen if you let my nephew get hurt!” The sharp scent of silver permeates around us. I wonder if it’s his gun or his knife. Maybe both. I deserve the knife. A slow, awful death. But not until I’ve done everything I can to get Dean back first. 

“I’m so sorry,” I say quietly. “It’s all my fault. I looked away. I knew other wolves were there and I looked away.”

“Get. Him. Back.”

“I’m trying, sir.”

Bobby tightens his grip on my shirt and growls, “Use your thread!”

“I can’t feel it!” I yell back at him, my body vibrating. “Okay? I can’t fucking feel it! I lost his trust and now I can’t feel it!”

“Let’s all just calm down,” my dad says in that steady, authoritative tone he always uses as an alpha. He doesn’t put the power behind it though. Probably because Bobby isn’t pack so it wouldn’t matter. 

“I’m not going to calm down until Dean is in my arms, understood?”

“And fighting with each other isn’t going to get that to happen!” My dad looks around at everyone standing in the room. Charlie, Anna, Gabe’s mate Kali, and my mom are in a truck somewhere on Demon territory, trying to track Dean down. Everyone else is standing here watching the shit hit the fan. No one will look at me. I understand why. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at myself again. 

When my dad’s gaze finally comes to land on me, he walks forward. Bobby thankfully lets me go without arguing with him so that my dad can wrap a hand around the back of my neck and pull me close, pressing our foreheads together. I let all of my emotions roll through our thread, needing him to know but unable to put any of it into words. He nods in understanding. He’s been here. He knows what I’m feeling. 

“I need you to go to Bobby’s and sit in Dean’s room. Close your eyes and block all of us out. Focus on your thread with Dean. Focus everything you have on it. Okay?” Too afraid to speak, because I’m pretty damn sure I’ll cry and that’s the last thing I need to be doing right now, I just nod. He squeezes my neck and adds, “You and that boy have had a connection from the start. You defy all of the rules. I know you can find him, Castiel. Believe in yourself. Believe in your connection.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Now go.”

Unable to talk to anyone, or to even look at anyone, I slide past my dad and hurry out the door, shifting into my wolf the second I can. 

This has to work. 

It _has_ to. 

\---- 

At first, I can’t feel him at all. I focus on sending him everything I possibly can from my end, hoping he’ll be able to feel them and react. 

Curled up on his bed, my body in wolf form so my senses are at their height, I press my nose into Dean’s pillow and keep breathing him in as I send steady streams of _mine, mine, mine_ and _safe, safe, safe_ and _calm, calm, calm_. I try to assure him I’m going to come for him. I try to promise I’ll always take care of him. I tell him over and over that I love him. 

The first burst through our thread that doesn’t come from me is red and violent. It’s terror and rage. I can taste it on my tongue like lightning. I feel it in my veins, coursing through me and mixing with my own fear and fury until I’m ready to tear something apart cell by cell. 

Then I’m being overwhelmed by an onslaught of _please, please, please_ and _need, need, need,_ and _Cas, Cas, Cas_. He begs for help. He floods with guilt. He drowns in grief. 

My mind finally gets a strong enough grip on our thread, allowing me to wrap myself around it. I hold on with everything I have and barrel through the house, not caring that Bobby will bitch at me for my claws scraping the floors and the lamp my tail accidentally knocks down. I’m already going to be in trouble for the front door that I had knocked down upon entering anyway. 

Jumping over said door that’s now shattered on the floor, I howl to my pack to get their attention and begin to run in the direction of Dean. I’m going to find him. I know I am. 

The only question is what state he will be in when I do. 

  
  


**Dean**

That steady, familiar pulse that is Castiel thrums through our thread for a long time, growing in intensity until I can barely breathe beneath the weight of all of his emotion and need. Then it fades into something cold with little pinpricks of rage and fear dotting along it. At the same time, voices begin shouting from outside my room. I try to jerk in my bindings, wanting to be able to help somehow if this is Castiel and his pack coming for me. Nothing budges though. I’m just as tied down as I’ve been. 

Something heavy slams against my door. It sounds like a body. The whimper that follows is wolf-like. I hope it’s one of the bad wolves and not a Novak. I can still feel Castiel’s thread, so that must be a good sign at least, right? At the very least, he has to be alive if I can still sense him. It’s weak, but it’s all I have to cling to so… 

A violent roar comes from the other side of the door a few minutes later. It’s enough to rattle the wood, the metal door knob jingling. The roar is followed by a terrifying, “Where is he?” that sounds gravelly and rasped with fangs, but still enough like Castiel for me to know it’s him. 

“I didn’t touch him!” some piece of shit squeaks. Then there’s the sick sound of claws in flesh and blood splattering against the walls. A wet, broken gasp is the last sound the werewolf makes before I hear the body hit the floor hard. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s dead. I couldn’t care less. 

“Cas!” I yell, unsure if he’ll be able to smell me through all of the blood that must be out there. “Cas, Cas, I’m here!”

Wood splinters through the air, making me flinch and hide my face. Then I hear Castiel’s voice, much more human this time. “Oh god, Dean. Dean, you’re okay. I’m here now. I’m so sorry. God, I’m so sorry. Let me see you. Are you okay? Are you alright? Sweetheart? Dean? Can you hear me?” Hands skim along my body, pausing here and there as if he’s checking to make sure I’m still intact. Then he’s ripping the chains off with his bare hands - something that shouldn't be sexy considering my situation, but I blame the shock I’m sure I’m experiencing - and scooping me up in his arms. I scramble in his hold until my legs are wrapped around his waist and my arms are like a vice around his neck. He guides my head until my nose is pressed against that spot on his neck I now know is the place I’ll bite him when we mate. I breathe him in, relaxing instantly. 

“Did they hurt you?” he asks, one hand holding me up while the other starts to roam my body again. “Did they touch you? What did they do to you?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” I cry, the bright green of our relief meeting the deep blue of sadness between us. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine-”

“You are. You’re fine. I’ve got you now. You’re safe.”

“ _Mate_ ,” I whisper, digging my nails into the bare skin of his back and pressing as close as possible. “Don’t let me go.”

“Never. Never again. You’re mine.” His hand comes back up to cradle the back of my head again, gently stroking my hair. “Close your eyes, sweetheart. I don’t want you to see any of this, okay? Just close your eyes.”

Nodding, I do as told and close my eyes. He takes a few steps before the sharp metallic scent of iron fills the air. I press my nose harder against Castiel’s skin, inhaling him deeper to replace what I know is the scent of blood. I know the moment we get outside, the autumn air cold against my naked body, but I keep my eyes closed and my face buried in his throat. It’s safer that way. Easier. 

Castiel lets me hide. Even when I feel us slide into a vehicle that’s pumping warm air and quiet music. Even when someone drapes a blanket over me. Even when he starts whispering promises to never let anything like this happen to me again. I just stay safely tucked away in his arms, eyes closed, until my body finally calms enough for me to sink into my exhaustion. 

\---- 

For the second time in 24 hours, I wake up disoriented and unsure where I am. It’s easier to figure things out this time around, though. I could recognize that scent anywhere; _Castiel_. When I blink my eyes a few times, his bedroom comes into focus. Even his bed, with its ridiculous amount of blankets and fluffy pillows, is recognizable considering I practically lived here for those few days I was in heat. 

I roll over to find myself pressed up against a firm, warm body. The gorgeous man stretched out on his back is naked from the waist up, a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips before the rest of him disappears beneath the blankets. I find myself slightly fascinated by the sight of his strong chest slowly moving up and down as he breathes. Then I’m fascinated by the dips that run on each side of his pelvic area. And then how soft his lips look. And then how long his dark eyelashes are as they rest against his cheek. And then how big his hands are as I remember how great they felt manhandling me during my heat. 

His mouth perks up in one corner, his eyelids fluttering. Then he whispers, “Staring at someone while they sleep is creepy you know.”

_Caught_. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Your heartbeat quickens when you lie.”

“Not fair,” I grumble, fighting a smile. 

Castiel chuckles softly before finally opening his eyes to look at me. He searches my face for something before sighing. “Your uncle Bobby is ready to whisk you away across the country.”

Since those words were some of the last ones I expected to hear coming from him right that second, all I manage is a, “What?”

“He thinks you’re going to want to run. Said it’s up to you.”

“And what about you?” I ask. 

Castiel shifts to put an arm behind his head, his chin dipping to look at me better. “What about me?”

“You’re my mate.”

“Not yet. Not if you don’t want me to be.”

I frown at him, not sure how he can be so damn relaxed when we’re talking about our future together. “Do you want to be my mate?”

“I think, after everything you’ve been through, and everything your father went through, that shouldn’t matter. You deserve to focus on what _you_ want, Dean. Whatever it is. Everyone here loves you and wants whatever it is _you_ think will make _you_ happy.”

It’s so inappropriate in the moment, but I can’t stop myself from laughing. Castiel looks at me in alarm before propping himself up on an elbow and cautiously smiling at me. 

“Sorry,” I say breathlessly, trying to control my giggles. “I just - if you think I’m letting you go anywhere after we've gone through all of this work, you’re crazy!”

“Really?” Castiel sits straight up, grinning at me like a total goofball. 

"Yup. I'm on to you, Novak. This is about _Lady and the Tramp,_ isn't it? You're trying to get out of our movie night."

He laughs softly, relief flooding our thread. "You caught me."

"Mhm. I expect to be wowed too, since our first date sucked. I want flowers and chocolates and _Lady and the Tramp_. And spaghetti. And chicken alfredo. And popcorn. And cuddles. Lots and lots of cuddles."

“I - you - _really_?”

“Really." I turn serious, putting one of my hands over his and slotting our fingers together. "The whole time they had me, I wasn’t thinking how mad I was at you or how much I hated being involved in all of this. I just kept thinking about how much I wanted you. Being in your arms again felt like - like coming home, Cas. There’s no other way to explain it. Before coming here, before meeting you, I always felt like I didn’t fit. But I _fit_ here. I fit with _you_.”

Castiel inches closer, taking my face in his big hands. “I promise I’ll never let anything bad happen to you again, okay? I’ll always protect you.”

“You can’t promise things like that, Cas.” I give him a warm smile and nuzzle the palm of his right hand. “But I love you for trying.” 

Fingertips press harder into my skin for a moment before his grip relaxes again. “You love me?”

My own body tenses for a moment as I look up at him in surprise. All it takes is his hesitant, yet dopey smile for me to admit the truth though. “Yeah, Cas. I love you.”

The blue eyed werewolf grins wide before smashing his mouth against mine for a brutal, passionate, searing kiss. He doesn’t pull away until we’re both breathless, and even then it’s only for a second. Just long enough for him to pant, “I love you too.”

  
  



End file.
